A Waking Dream of Life and Light
by archangelraphaelsdaughter
Summary: After many painstaking years for the sides of Light and Dark, Voldemort is defeated. All were free to return to their lives. Of course, Harry Potter's life could never be normal. Vamp!Harry, time-travel fic. AU after fifth, eventual slash. Collaboration
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**-~-**

_**In visions of the dark night **_

_**I have dreamed of joy departed**_

_**But a waking dream of life and light**_

_**Hath left me broken-hearted.**_

_**Ah! what is not a dream by day**_

_**To him whose eyes are cast**_

_**On things around him with a ray**_

_**Turned back upon the past?**_

**A Dream – Edgar Allan Poe**

**-~-**

**Prologue**

**-~-**

Pain.

In that moment, it was all he knew.

It was funny, thinking back, how this trumped even his turning – that feeling of every vein in your body constricting and freezing over, everything within you drawing in and crystallizing yet yearning to burst because of the agonizing firetearing through. Knowing you were dying, that you were already dead.

It was the acknowledgement of the pain that heightened it; there was no release.

At that moment, what he knew was that behind his eyes there was a pounding that made his head feel as though it was five times its weight. The vehement pulsing made him groan, and he dragged a hand up to block his eyes from the burning light that shone through his eyelids.

Wait...the sun?

Harry bolted upright. The sun couldn't be out. It was raining when he'd killed Voldemort, and—

And he killed Voldemort!

It was finally over, all of it! He was free, completely free! Though...

Where was he?

Harry cautiously drew his hand from over his face, a pained hiss escaping his lips. Damn, the sun gave him such a headache. It was just so _bright_.

Spying a tree through the glaring rays, Harry slunk over to the shade and dropped to the ground once more. His head was killing him. How was he supposed to _think_?

The answer was simply, really. He _had_ to; the pain didn't matter.

Harry pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on his cool arms. Before he could figure out how he got here, he had to figure out _where_ here was.

He slowly lifted his head and blinked blearily. The sun must be making him delusional. It wasn't where he was that confused him, really, because he knew that the Battle of Hogwarts had ended here – Hogwarts, that is.

What really confused him was how _clean_ it all smelled.

Just hours ago this had been a battlefield, and if anyone had asked him, Harry could have sworn that he would never be able to get the smell of blood to leave his nostrils. But now...

There was nothing.

The grounds were completely empty; not a body in sight, not a single drop of blood. Hell, even the atmosphere screamed peace. It was almost as if the whole thing had never taken place.

Scratch that. It _was_ as if it had never taken place.

In fact, if he hadn't known any better, Harry would have said the whole thing was some sort of mad dream.

But it couldn't be a dream, because he could still smell the blood on his clothes, could still feel the strain in his muscles.

And he was pretty sure dreams weren't supposed to hurt so much.

Harry sighed, he was getting too distracted, and the sun was impairing him with a headache. Standing warily, in a vain attempt to reduce the pain, he started the trek up to his old school.

Walking across the grounds gave Harry a sense of nostalgia. How long had it been since he had been a student here? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't even know what the year was anymore. How long had he been a vampire on the run? No longer the Boy-Who-Lived, but the Man-Who-Survived.

Harry knuckled his eyes as he started up the steps to the great doors of Hogwarts. Why was he thinking so much anyways? It was just making his head pound worse. Every time his foot made contact with the ground, he winced in pain. Why did it have to be so sunny? What had he done wrong?

And why would the wizarding world leave their vampire hero out in the sun, anyways?

That last thought caused a hysterical giggle to burst out of Harry. He wasn't exactly the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, was he? He wasn't _living_ anymore.

Finally, mercifully, Harry reached the doors. He pulled them open and stumbled inside, walking right into Dumbledore.

The old wizard looked at Harry strangely, as if he either couldn't believe Harry was there, or that someone had managed to walk into him.

After a moment of staring dumbfounded at each other, abruptly the force of Dumbledore's twinkling eyes was aimed at Harry.

"And what brings you here, um, ah..." Dumbledore trailed off, the former question issued with kindness ending awkwardly as he realized that he didn't know Harry's name.

Wait, what?

Harry blinked unintelligently for several moments. But, Dumbledore had died. So then...

"Could you tell me what the date is?"

The old wizard eyed the vampire oddly for a moment, before responding, "August 31st, 1976, if I'm not mistaken."

Harry blinked again. How...?

Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon glasses, an eyebrow slightly raised. Of course, anyone would be confused at someone appearing at the door of a grand school inquiring what the date was, but he seemed more curious now than surprised. Damn Dumbledore's aura of omniscience!

"Did you cross the grounds just to ask me the date, dear boy, or do you wish to speak with someone?" Dumbledore asked, a small smile on his lips. Harry didn't find him very funny, but of course, his head was pulsing irritatingly so some might say that he was a tad aggravated.

Due to the existence of magic, if Harry had had an appointment he would have flooed surely, which was what Dumbledore had pointed out. Gathering a quick excuse, he spewed, "I wanted to know if I could attend Hogwarts this year."

Well, he _was _interested in walking through the halls of the great castle once again - while it wasn't composed solely of crumbling walls housing bloodied bodies. He was physically sixteen anyways, he might as well have something to do while figuring out how he'd managed to travel back in time and how he was going to return.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose up to his hairline. "Really? How fascinating. I suppose you could be sorted with the first years, and join those of your age afterward. Now, what is your name, my boy?"

Harry's muscles tensed. He hadn't actually thought this through. Not that he should be particularly surprised, Hermione had always said that he needed to learn to think things through before he went and did something stupid.

Well, now he'd gone and done something stupid. Looks like he hadn't tied much substance to her words.

"Harry," he said slowly, stalling for time. If this was the year 1976, then his parents would be here, so he needed a name that wouldn't be too close to theirs.

Naturally, he jumped to the next name that came to mind. "Slythe," he said after a burst of inspiration. Technically he was Slytherin's heir, even if that was because of a freak accident.

"Harry Slythe? Interesting," Dumbledore said, tapping his lips with one gnarled finger.

"And how far have you progressed in your education?"

"I'm in my sixth year," Harry said without missing a beat. It was his sixth year, after all, that he was turned.

"Very well then," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Tomorrow night is when the Sorting is taking place. There are a few forms for you to sign due to you being a... transfer," he said, eyeing Harry as though expecting to spot an explanation that had suddenly appeared. He continued on as though there hadn't been a pause though, "For Ministry purposes you understand. Tomorrow after you've been sorted I will fetch you outside your common room once you've unpacked and detail Hogwarts' curriculum. Your classes will be sorted out then, my boy, so you won't have to worry about supplies ahead of time. Now! I do have a matter of great importance regarding a house elf and the care of my woollen socks, so if there aren't any questions?"

Harry mutely shook his head, and Dumbledore asked with a smile, "You have pleasant housing tonight, don't you?" Harry nodded, not having a place to stay but knowing it wouldn't be hard to find one as he _did _know his way around. He watched, amused, as Dumbledore nodded and went off to take care of his 'matter of great importance.'

**-~-**

Harry stood at the front of the Great Hall among several first years. He thought he would have felt more awkward waiting to be sorted again - especially since he was physically five years older than every other student waiting - but he didn't. Maybe it was because his once messy black mop was now a casual disarray, and he was no longer bespeckled. Really, it was a wonder that good looks could boost one's confidence so much.

Sometimes, being a vampire was worth the pain.

"Slythe, Harry."

Harry started, not having realized the sorting had begun. He walked over to the stool and sat down gracefully, waiting for Professor McGonagall to place the Sorting Hat on his head.

After what seemed like an eternity, an all too familiar voice echoed in his head.

_Interesting, truly interesting. A marvellous mind, I see. And quite a past._

Harry rolled his eyes.

_Could we just get this over with, please? _Harry asked, _We both know where you're going to put me._

_It does seem that I've already sorted you once. How curious. Well, I suppose you'd do best in..._

"SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, not really, considering this is Vick's story. She's too lazy to post it herself so yeah ;D**

**Vicki's note: Hummkay, this is a plot bunny that caught me in the middle the night, and I thought it was a crazy good idea - and Dray agreed with me. So here we are, hot off the press, a nice new collaboration between the two of us. It got sent back and forth between us for several hours, and credits to Dumbledore go to Dray (as I couldn't write him if my life depended on it). Enjoy. **

**All of the reviews will be sent to her also and I'll see if she'll join me in replying ;3 I hope you like how we've started it, put it on your alerts!! There's a lot more to come!**


	2. Like a Slytherin

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**-~-**

**Chapter 1: Like a Slytherin**

-~-

Harry Potter gave his award-winning smirk at the silence that followed the Hat's exclamation. Really, what were they all expecting? Not only was his last name supposedly 'Slythe', the first six letters in the name Slytherin, but he was tall and pale, with black hair and unearthly green eyes.

Did they really think he'd be sorted somewhere else?

Of course, the moment he got up from the stool, the Slytherin table erupted into applause. Naturally, they would be the only table to cheer, but he didn't mind.

Harry turned slightly to gauge Dumbledore's expression – after all, he _had _just gotten sorted into Slytherin after mysteriously appearing on the grounds – but was stunned to see calculating eyes twinkling madly at him. Harry gave a small smile and strolled casually over to his new table.

It felt strange to be sitting with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors, but it wasn't that bad. It probably would have been awkward dorming with the Marauders anyways – and not just because they were his family. He couldn't imagine having to live at such close quarters to a werewolf.

Fortunately for Harry, there was one seat remaining by the sixth years.

Unfortunately, that seat was next to an intimidating looking teenager with shoulder length black hair and keen black eyes.

Harry took the seat next to the teen, who turned a glare onto Harry. Completely untroubled, Harry responded with his best Slytherin smirk.

"Hey, I'm Harry Slythe," he said casually, quirking an eyebrow when Snape continued to glare.

After several minutes, Snape muttered, "Severus Snape," then turned his head away, giving the air of being uninterested.

Finally the sorting came to an end, and Dumbledore rose from his place at the Head Table.

"Well," he began, "I'm sure you've all had a marvellous summer, and are quite excited for the start of this term.

"I expect you all to give a warm welcome to our first years, and our newest sixth year, Harry Slythe." The Headmaster inclined his head slightly in his direction, giving him a slight smile as if the constant twinkling in his eyes wasn't enough. He then turned his attention back to the student body to continue with his speech.

"Mr. Filch has once again asked me to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is off limits; a fact which some of you seem to have trouble remembering..." His gaze wandered along the faces peering up at him, his eyes lingering on some - the Marauders - more than others.

Coming back to what he was saying, he finished joyously, "And now just a few more words for you - Flabbergasted! Wiley! Beast! Thank you, enjoy the feast."

With an extravagant wave of his hand, Dumbledore sat down, and food appeared along the five tables in the Great Hall.

Harry filled his cup with pumpkin juice and took a sip. He'd wait until dessert to eat anything. It seemed that vampirism had given him quite a sweet tooth – everything but sugar tasted like ash to him now.

It was a small price to pay when you could live forever.

"Not going to eat?" a Slytherin asked from beside him. Harry turned to see a handsome male turned to him, one dark eyebrow quirked. He had short, black hair and dark brown eyes set in olive skin that was a stark contrast to Harry's own pallor. Due to the fit of his tailored clothes, Harry could see that he was well-toned.

"Well, of course I'm going to," Harry intoned, his voice slightly condescending. Was everyone going to watch to see what he ate? _Really?_

The Slytherin's eyebrow remained annoyingly quirked. He asked, absently wondering

why Harry wasn't eating right then, "But?"

"But I don't find this food so appetizing," Harry replied, his stunning green gaze challenging the male to say something against him.

"Whatever," the teen said haughtily. Several moments passed in silence, and just as Harry had started to turn back to his pumpkin juice, the Slytherin next to him said, "I'm Charlie Harper, by the way. Thought you'd like to know."

Harry let out a low chuckle, and mentally brought up everything he'd ever heard about Charlie Harper.

He was a bit of a ladies' man; never one to be in a commitment for too long, but also loyal to those he truly cared about.

And he was one of Sirius' main rivals during his Hogwarts years.

"Harry Slythe," Harry drawled. "But you already knew that."

Charlie smirked and returned to his food.

Harry took another sip of his pumpkin juice, and was slightly startled to find Snape looking at him – not glaring.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked casually.

"No."

Harry was just opening his mouth to reply when the main course disappeared, to be replaced with a table full of sugary goodness.

Harry could feel his mouth watering, his eyes opening a bit wider to take in the variety of desserts. Oh, how he had missed the food at Hogwarts.

Harry eagerly reached for the treacle tarts, but forgetting them completely when he spotted a strawberry cheesecake near his left elbow.

Charlie laughed at Harry's side as he stuffed a forkful of cheesecake into his mouth, both momentarily oblivious to the gaping students around them.

But who needed a good reputation, anyways? They were vastly overrated.

"Honestly," Harry heard what must have been Mulciber muttering to Snape, Rosier and Avery. "You'd think he'd have more restraint. Pastries are for Hufflepuffs."

Harry froze. He _really_ didn't like Death Eaters – even if they technically weren't Death Eaters yet.

And that's when he realized that Snape was agreeing with the boy. He had completely forgotten that Snape had friends like them. That he, too, was a death eater.

Harry just barely stopped himself from hissing at Mulciber, making a silent vow to change things. If he was stuck here, then at least he could try to make things better, starting with Snape – and if that led to his parents staying alive and Voldemort never having the confidence that he was indestructible, then so be it.

Harry nodded to himself, fork still hanging from his mouth. He removed the utensil and proceeded to eat his dessert, although his heart was no longer in it. He was completely focused on his plans.

He'd make life better for Snape, even if that meant that he had to be nice to him, because then his life would be better too.

Especially since they were now dorm mates.

**-~-**

Finally, dinner was over and they were headed to the Slytherin dormitory. Harry inexplicably found himself walking beside Snape, who was glaring at him steadily.

That is, until the Marauders showed up.

"Well, well, if it isn't Snivellus," a haughty male voice drawled. "I see you've found yourself a new Death Eater friend."

Harry turned, having heard this voice once before – the one time he had viewed Snape's memories.

Sure enough, James Potter was standing there, a cocky grin plastered on his face, his wand raised.

On his right Sirius Black stood with his arms crossed, eyebrow quirked, and Peter Pettigrew stood to his left, a maniacal smile on his lips.

Remus Lupin stood behind them, looking unhappy. Well, at least one of them had the decency to look guilty about it.

Snape made a sound that, on anyone who wasn't Snape, would have been a snort. "You wish that were the case, so that you'd have an excuse for your unjust and childish pranking."

"Those are some big words for such a small mind, Snivellus," Sirius chimed in, uncrossing his arms and drawing his wand.

Harry sighed. He _really_ didn't want to be involved in this. It could get messy.

So instead, he grabbed Snape's arm – perhaps a little violently, but he really didn't care – and dragged him back toward the dungeons.

"Coward!" James shouted at Harry's back, obviously trying to provoke him.

Harry didn't give him the satisfaction, and forcefully dragged Snape to the dungeons, ignoring the Marauders behind him.

Why did they have to be so immature?

**-~-**

When they finally reached the dungeons, Harry released Snape's arm.

"I expect you to be able to walk without my assistance," Harry said icily, already irritated at the schoolboy rivalry.

Snape angrily adjusted his robes and continued on through the maze of stone passages, leading Harry.

Turning another corner, the two adolescents were surprised to find an angry Prefect leaning against a wall, seemingly waiting for them.

"Shingleton," Snape acknowledged, electing to ignore the vampire beside him for the moment.

Harry mentally brought up all information he had of Gaspard Shingleton... which admittedly, wasn't much. The boy was a seventh year, Head Boy. He went on to invent the self-stirring cauldrons, if Harry recalled correctly.

He wasn't that outstanding, really. He had short brown hair, calculating brown eyes, and high cheekbones; overall average, but he was intelligent.

And he could hold a grudge.

"Snape," Shingleton nodded, "Slythe. So nice of you to finally join us." He raised one eyebrow and continued, "Did you get lost?"

Silence followed for several minutes, a staring - more like _glaring _- contest between Snape and Shingleton.

Finally, Shingleton looked away, turning to mutter to the stretch of wall behind him, "_Thamnophis sirtalis._"

A section of the wall slid aside, revealing the Slytherin Common Room, a very impatient Professor Slughorn standing amongst the entire Slytherin population.

"Excellent, excellent! You've finally joined us," Slughorn said while rocking back on his heels, anxious to begin his start of term duties as Head of House.

Harry had the decency to look sheepish, but inside he was reeling. He really didn't like this man, especially since he had been the one to help make Voldemort damn near indestructible. Not that he'd _known _that that would happen, of course, but he should really have been more responsible.

And what was wrong with him that he had to collect people, anyways?

Shingleton entered behind Snape and Harry as the stone wall fell back into place, forcing them into the crowd of students so that Slughorn could begin his speech.

"Now," he began, scoping the room for future potions prodigies, "I know many of you have heard this before, but it always helps to refresh your young minds."

Pause.

"Anyways," he said quickly, sensing the tension and awkwardness in the air, "this is your home now. Look to your left, and then to your right. These people are your family now, and you would do well to remember that. Slytherins have always been the outcasts, but also the most ambitious. So help each other, stand strong, and-"

A few of the first years snickered as a drop of water fell from the ceiling and landed on Slughorn's face. He shuffled two paces to the left and continued, "-and remember to be proud of who you are. Don't disgrace each other. Oh! And remember to keep your uniform in check." He eyed several of the first years, who were now playing with their ties.

Suddenly Harry was glad that he had gone to Diagon Alley the night before to get his supplies for school – and, of course, uniform – despite the fact that Dumbledore had said he didn't need to. What did the old wizard know anyway? The last time he'd had to worry about getting school supplies for himself had to have been at least a century ago.

"Now," the Professor continued, oblivious to Harry's musings, "everyone except for the first years is excused."

There was a pause as everyone started to shuffle to their dorm rooms. Harry took the time to examine his new home.

Really, it was pretty much the same as he remembered it being in his second year. The room resembled a dungeon; long, with a low ceiling held by dank stone walls, and round, green lamps hanging from chains stretching upward. Black couches and high-backed chairs were scattered around, seemingly arranged around the fireplace with an ornately carved mantle-piece.

And of course, the ceiling leaked.

Harry followed Snape to their dorm, eyeing a skull he walked by with disdain. He had never liked skulls. They reminded him of Death Eaters.

The dorm itself was slightly more welcoming. There were five four-poster beds in the room, each with silver curtains and green bedspreads. The walls were stone, like in the common room, but the floor was covered in a plush green carpet. Another green lamp hung low in the center of the dorm, casting an eerie glow about the room.

Harry took the bed closest to the door on the left, next to Charlie's, as it was the only one remaining. He sat on his bed gracefully, finding it incredibly comfortable – something he hadn't expected, based on the general darkness of the place.

That was when he noticed that everyone was getting ready for bed.

Snape, Harry noticed, was well built despite his stringy appearance. His skin wasn't that pale, especially when compared to Harry's own, and his hair was-

Harry stopped and shuddered. What was he doing, looking at his teacher like that? Even if technically this boy was not his teacher yet... it was still _weird_.

Fighting to keep his eyes from widening in horror, Harry glanced to his left and saw Charlie was also shirtless now and just as well muscled as Harry had thought he would be.

When Charlie turned away from him, Harry noticed that there was a Hungarian Horntail tattooed across his back.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at Charlie when he had turned back to face him, and the other boy shrugged a shoulder. "I've always been interested in dragons," he stated matter-of-factly.

Huh, sounded like another Charlie that Harry knew. Maybe it was the name.

**-~-**

It was 2 am now, everyone was sleeping, and Harry was _bored._

During the war, his vampire-induced insomnia had been a good thing; he'd always been on alert, never surprised.

But now he was stuck in a room full of sleeping adolescent boys with nothing to do.

Harry sighed. Once again, he'd regretted not listening to Hermione's advice.

"Well," Harry muttered to no one in particular, "when in doubt..."

He slipped out of bed, his feet silently landing on the plush carpet, and went to the trunk Dumbledore had supplied him with. Opening it silently, he rummaged through the messy trunk and pulled out the first textbook he found.

Harry groaned. It was his potions textbook.

He ambled silently to the door of the dorm room and opened it, slipping out and into the common room.

Walking stealthily over to an armchair, Harry curled up and started reading.

It was going to be a long year.

* * *

**Vicki's Note: Alright, so that's another chapter done. We'll hopefully get a few more out before Christmas Break, but since _someone _(Dray) is leaving for Christmas, no guarantees on updates for a while. So we'll see how much we can get out around my busy schedule in the next week. On another note, I hope everyone liked Charlie. I wasn't originally going to create him, but there's a surprising lack of canon characters for the Marauders' Era, so there's going to be quite a few OC's to fill the gaps. We'll try not to confuse you. Until next time~**

**Author's Note: Well, _sor-rey _that I'm going to Florida. Anywho, reviews=love, so let us know how you liked this chapter!**


	3. If Only

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**-~-**

**Chapter 2: If Only**

**-~-**

It was a little after 3 am when Dumbledore finally appeared in the Slytherin common room. Harry was deeply immersed in the workings of the Draught of Living Death, so the old wizard was not met with annoyance as he had feared (it was, after all, way past the time for friendly visits).

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore greeted pleasantly as he strolled across the common room. "I _am_ sorry I'm so late; there was a distressing lack of lemon drops in my office, and I had to remedy the problem before I could do anything else."

Harry stared at the man without a hint of surprise on his face, turning to place his Potions textbook on the nearest table after shifting a skull to the side. He commented offhandedly, "Of course, Professor. I'm just glad I was already up."

Dumbledore smiled warmly at the young vampire. "I trust that you settled in well?" he asked.

"Yes, I did, thank you. And thanks for the trunk you left for me."

Harry was hit full force with the old wizard's twinkling eyes as he said, "I'm glad you were able to find it, I was worried you might not have known it was yours."

Harry was seriously starting to worry that Dumbledore was losing it – his name had been engraved on the trunk, for Merlin's sake!

"Anyways," Dumbledore continued on, oblivious to the vampire's concern, "I need to know which classes you will be taking this year so that we may place you where you will fit. Of course, I'll need to know your OWL scores."

"Right," Harry mumbled, taking the worn out ministry letter from his pocket. He had never been able to bring himself to destroy it; it was all he had left from his school when he was forced to run. He handed the parchment to his old mentor and shifted in his chair slightly, feeling uncomfortable.

Dumbledore took a moment to settle into a high-backed chair near Harry, casting a conspicuous glance at the Potions book before reviewing the parchment.

Fortunately for Harry, he had remembered to transfigure some of the lettering on the page to reflect his current situation:

_June 1976_

_Dear Mr. Slythe,_

_We are please to inform you that you have just received the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Your scores are as follows:_

_Astronomy: A_

_Care of Magical Creatures: E_

_Charms: E_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: O_

_Divination: P_

_Herbology: E_

_History of Magic: D_

_Potions: E_

_Transfiguration: E_

_You have successfully acquired seven out of the nine OWLs you applied for. Congratulations on a job well done._

_The Ministry of Magic_

Harry waited patiently until he was certain that Dumbledore was finished reading before he began to speak.

"So," he said as Dumbledore handed back the piece of parchment, "I was hoping to take classes in everything I passed."

Dumbledore smiled kindly at him, nodding his head in accordance to his decision to not drop any of his subjects. Frankly, Harry was surprised at Dumbledore's easy acceptance, stunned that he hadn't noticed the transfigured name and date.

Then again, he also seemed to have missed the fact that Harry was a vampire.

So much for being all-knowing...

"Well, fortunately your schedule is fairly easy to craft. You will attend all of your classes with Mr. Harper, which gives you the benefit of being able to travel with someone in your dormitory whom already knows his way around the school." Dumbledore's smile widened. "And I happened to notice that you have gotten your school supplies already. Very good, very good; I'm not sure when you would have found the time otherwise."

Harry cocked an eyebrow, wondering if Dumbledore realized that he was the one who had told him to wait to get his supplies. He smiled, secretly glad that he'd always kept his mokeskin pouch filled with Galleons. Harry had enough money to last him another four years here, if his calculations were correct.

"But alas," the old wizard continued, "I must be leaving now. I'm afraid that I've gone too long without my lemon drops," he said pleasantly as he stood up.

Harry understood completely – he felt the same when he went too long without sugar.

"Enjoy your classes, my boy," the Headmaster called as he exited the common room.

And then Harry was alone – again – and with his Potions book...

He sighed and glanced at the text. As much as he wanted to just leave it there and sneak off to the library to study up on time paradoxes, he wasn't supposed to know where the library was. Or where anything was, for that matter.

Which was going to make the next week a pain if he had to keep pretending he knew nothing about the school.

Sighing dramatically, Harry returned to his book. He supposed he would have to work harder at potions than usual, especially since he'd be sharing the class with _Snape._

And Lily, he reminded himself sadly.

He would really hate to make a fool of himself in front of his family. Especially the Potions-prodigy part of it.

Expecting no more interruptions for the night, Harry Potter glared at the text in his Potions book once more.

**-~-**

Morning came, and with it hordes of unhappy students – it was, after all, the first day of school. Summer break was officially over. It was a very dismal occasion.

Harry looked up from what he was reading when he heard the first of the grumbling students descend the stone steps into the common room, and found a very shocked looking Charlie staring back at him.

"Why aren't you in bed?" the olive skinned boy asked, looking at Harry as if he had two heads.

Harry raised an eyebrow, retorting, "I could ask you the same thing, you know."

"Well, yes," the boy conceded, "but I heard you leave earlier this morning. Why?"

"I had to attend a meeting with the headmaster at 3."

Charlie found no response forthcoming; the vampire's response was too serious, so he let the subject drop.

"So," Harry continued, pretending not to notice his friend's stupor, "I have all my classes with you this year." When Charlie remained silent, he continued, "Which means that you get to escort me around the school."

Harry tilted his head to the side slightly, a smile playing at his lips. He used Charlie's groggy silence to tease the boy, "What's wrong Charlie? Afraid of what people will think when you have the new kid tagging along everywhere? The new _male_ kid?"

That seemed to break Charlie from his trance and he smirked at the vampire. "Of course not, I'm concerned for you."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe. "And why is that?"

"Because you may seem pretty now, but being beside me all day... The difference is like a Troll to a Veela."

Harry didn't dignify that comment with a response.

Charlie: 1, Harry: 0

**-~-**

Harry followed Charlie into the Great Hall, once again sitting beside a silent Snape. Upon sitting, the dark teenager turned to eye Harry, his face portraying nothing but curiosity. Harry smiled crookedly at Snape, receiving a raised eyebrow in return.

"So," the vampire began lamely, grabbing a piece of French toast from the table and drowning it in syrup, "I heard that you're incredible in Potions class."

"Flattery will not make me any more inclined to be your partner, Slythe," the boy said quietly.

Harry was suddenly glad that he no longer possessed the ability to blush.

The Potions prodigy turned back to his breakfast, leaving Harry to his own food. After a moment of staring at his syrup-drenched food, the vampire placed a forkful of it in his mouth, his eyelids sinking to half-mast in pleasure.

Beside him, Charlie scrunched his nose. "How can you eat that?" he asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged, taking another bite of syrupped toast. "I like sugar," he deadpanned.

Charlie waited for a further explanation, but none came.

Across the table, Harry could hear Rosier, Wilkes, Mulciber and Avery snickering. Harry would have to separate Snape from them, and soon, or he'd lose him to the Dark side.

And it was hard to forget what had happened the last time Snape had been among the Death Eaters.

Harry placed his fork down, closing his eyes. The last time Snape had been on Voldemort's side, there was chaos.

His parents had died, he had been marked by a prophecy and turned into a Horcrux, and Sirius had been sent to Azkaban.

His life had essentially been ruined.

And now he was dead.

Harry fought a sigh. This was no way to start classes. His life was not a total wreck, after all. It was just... messy.

Besides, Snape had come back to the Light, to Dumbledore - to him. They had hated each other, but Snape had given his life to save Harry, to save everyone.

And look at where Harry had ended up! He couldn't even figure out _how_ he'd managed this one.

It happened when he had fought with Voldemort; that much he knew. They had both fired spells at the same time; Voldemort _Avada Kedavra_ and Harry _Sectumsempra_ – it had just seemed _right_ at the time, after seeing Snape's memories; after finding out the man was a hero. And, like before, the spells had connected.

However, unlike in his fourth year, this time Harry had been prepared. He had a time-activated Portkey just in case something like that had happened so that he could escape, and it was due to set off—

Right when their spells hit.

Maybe, just _maybe_ something had happened. Maybe the wild magic of the spells combined with the time-activation spell had malfunctioned, and sent Harry back.

But that still didn't explain why he was sent back to the year 1976.

Harry sighed, eyeing his French toast. After a moment of consideration, he grabbed the sugar bowl and poured several spoonfuls of sugar onto the clusterfuck of dulcitude that was his breakfast. [For you dunderheads, 'a clusterfuck of dulcitude' is 'a chaotic mess of sweet things'.]

Beside him, Snape gagged.

Despite his sudden melancholy, Harry smirked. Seeing Snape choke over his eating habits was well worth it – if he could just get the boy's attention, he could save him from the Death Eaters.

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice and started to stand up; following Charlie's lead. Classes were going to begin soon, and he would need all the help he could get outside of his area of expertise.

It was, after all, Potions class.

**-~-**

Harry shuffled into the Potions classroom behind Charlie. He was soon dismayed to find the other boy partnering with Lily Evans. His mom.

Harry huffed and went to the next vacant seat – which effectively partnered him with one Sirius Black; Gryffindor prankster extraordinaire.

That alone would not have upset Harry; he had loved Sirius when he was alive, and still loved him.

What upset Harry was the look that he was receiving from said Marauder.

The glare being directed at him was unnerving, to say the least. It was almost as if Sirius despised him – for being a Slytherin or because he had been in the same room as Snape, Harry wasn't sure. Either way, he needed the glare to stop.

Or they might both fail the class this year.

"Hello," Harry greeted quietly, sitting down beside Sirius. "I'm Harry Slythe."

"I know who you are," the boy responded roughly.

Harry contained a wince; he hadn't done anything wrong! If this was how James and Sirius had reacted to Snape at their first meeting, no wonder the boy had turned to the Death Eaters for protection.

"Well, it seems that we're going to be partners this year," Harry continued, his small talk obviously failing in its attempt to warm up the teenager. "What's your name?"

"Sirius Black," he said, a trace of irritation colouring his voice.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I've heard of you. You're the first Black to deflect to Gryffindor." When he was answered with silence, he continued, "Not that I mind, of course. The Hat was going to sort me into that House, too."

In fact, it _had_ sorted him into that House. But it's not like Sirius had any way of knowing that.

However, the comment had the desired effect, and Sirius calmed a bit.

"Yeah?" he asked sceptically, "with a name like Slythe, I never would have known."

Harry quirked one perfect eyebrow before cocking his head to the side. Slughorn would be entering in 3... 2... 1...

The door opened and a short plump man with a bare scalp and a walrus-like moustache walked in. He smiled as he strode into class.

"Okay class," Professor Slughorn greeted eagerly, "today we will be learning about the Draught of Living Death!"

Harry tuned out the man, having learned the potion explicitly the night before. Instead, he took the time to examine his classmates.

In the room were, of course, Snape, Charlie, Lily and the Marauders; as well as Rosier and Avery. There were four other students that Harry didn't know the names of – three Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff.

And then Harry noted, with more than slight distress, that Charlie was flirting with Lily.

He scrunched his nose and turned away. What Lily did in her spare time was her business. He knew she'd be with James eventually; and besides, how she spent her life wasn't up to him to control.

Opting to ignore his mother's love life, Harry returned his attention to the chalkboard just in time to see the instructions for the potion appear.

Harry left Sirius to start the fire under their cauldron as he grabbed the asphodel, wormwood, Valerian roots and sopophorous beans needed for the potion.

As Harry began preparing the Valerian roots, he noticed Sirius starting to cut the sopophorous beans.

Harry quickly dropped what he was doing and ripped the knife from Sirius' hand.

"What are you doing?" the Gryffindor demanded angrily.

"You're doing it wrong," Harry mumbled, proceeding to crush a bean with the flat side of the knife. "If you cut it, only a limited amount of the juice will be extracted. Crushing it is far more effective." Dark hair fell over Harry's eyes as he handed the knife delicately back to Sirius.

"I... see..." Sirius said; taking the knife gingerly and continuing Harry's work as the vampire finished preparing the other ingredients.

Sirius was even more stunned to see an equally baffled-looking Snape staring at his partner.

When they had finished preparing the ingredients for the draught, Harry informed his partner, "You should stir clockwise after every seven stirs counter-clockwise." To Sirius' surprised look, he explained, "If you don't, then the draught won't mix properly."

After another moment of shocked silence, Sirius returned to the cauldron, mumbling something about 'Slytherins and their potions'.

Harry blinked once, but showed no other sign that he was caught off guard by Sirius' comment as he continued on with their work.

-~-

Finally, the class came to a finish, and Harry and Sirius' potion was just turning clear from its previous lilac colouring.

Out of the six remaining groups, Snape's reached the same colouring as Harry's; Lily's was still a light pink after it should have long since been clear, but not everyone was at Snape's standards.

Suddenly, Harry was glad he'd not only read the entire Potions textbook the night before, but that he'd asked Snape for tutoring in what would have been his seventh year; he'd discovered Snape's true intentions by then and since he could honestly say he didn't hate the git anymore, he was willing to actually _learn_. And he had. A lot. In the end, Snape had even admitted that he would have been one of his stronger students if he'd just applied himself.

If only the same thing could be said about some of his other classes.

Harry put a sample of their potion into a vial after spelling it shatterproof. He wasn't taking any chances, especially in a class full of adolescent pranksters and future Death Eaters.

**-~-**

Soon enough Harry found himself once again walking alongside Charlie as they headed to Transfiguration.

"Jeeze, Harry," Charlie said, his eyebrows rising up to his hairline, "If I'd known you were so talented in Potions, I would have claimed you myself."

Harry snickered despite himself. "You and Lily did pretty well, you know."

He shrugged casually. "Yeah, I know."

"So why are you complaining?"

"No matter how well Lily and I did," he explained, "You and Black did better."

Harry inclined his head slightly. "Well, it's too late now, isn't it?"

Charlie remained silent as he escorted Harry into the classroom.

"So, how are you at Transfiguration?"

**-~-**

After a long and monotonous class of practicing _Duro_, a spell used to transfigure any object into stone, Harry and Charlie exited their Transfigurations class. Harry was glad that he was given this opportunity to finish his education (even if his circumstances were less than ideal), but he found himself seeing more and more of Snape's point of view. He finally understood why the man was so bitter – after two classes of being attacked by the Marauders, he had enough of it. He hadn't even done anything wrong; they charged because they were Gryffindors and he was a Slytherin. Naturally, they had to 'eradicate' the evil wizards from their ranks.

What a noble cause indeed.

So it was no surprise to Harry that as he was heading to the Great Hall he was stopped once again by the group – well, half of it.

"Well, if it isn't old Snivellus' Death Eater friend," James drawled in a tone that Harry found he hated more than Malfoy's purr.

Harry could see Charlie's muscles starting to tense in his peripheral vision. It was obviously taking a lot of effort to refrain himself from cursing the arrogant Gryffindor.

A lot of wasted effort in Harry's opinion. He could deal with this.

"Look, Potter," Harry said, tilting his head a fraction to the left, registering how odd it was to call another by his own last name. "I don't know what I've done to upset you. As far as I can tell, I've been here for less than two days, and already you think I'm evil?" He raised an eyebrow at the other man's growing blush.

"Well..."

"You were with Snivellus before," Sirius said, stepping up for his friend.

"And now you're with _Harper_, of all people," James continued, seeing where Sirius was headed.

Harry reached his arm out and restrained Charlie as the boy's muscled tensed for an attack. He sighed, bunching his fist in the Slytherin's robes.

"If you're quite done," Harry said, appalled by his family's behaviour. Why were they so immature?

Just as Harry began to drag Charlie past the two and into the Great Hall, they were joined by Remus and Peter. Harry sighed; this was just his luck.

"Hello Remus, Pettigrew," Harry said in feigned kindness.

James' eyebrows ran into his fringe. "Why did you call him that?" he asked Harry.

"What?"

"Remus. You called him Remus."

"Yes, and?" Harry said sarcastically. "It's his name, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," James conceded yet again.

"Well, then I suppose I should call him that, shouldn't I? It would be stupid of me to call him something else, like Romulus, wouldn't it?"

The group became silent. Harry hoped they realized that calling Snape 'Snivellus' was completely pointless.

Harry took the momentary lapse in conversation to forcefully drag a struggling Charlie

away from the shell-shocked group.

**-~-**

James was absolutely stunned.

He wasn't going to say that the Slytherin was right, of course, but...

...but he was.

And that's what upset him so much. For over five years they had been calling Snape by a name that wasn't his – and there was no way in hell that old Snivellus actually _liked_ the name they had given him. In fact, he seemed to grow more violent whenever they used it. But that wasn't their fault; it couldn't be.

They were Gryffindors, and he was a Slytherin. They were good, and he was evil. End of story.

But that didn't change the fact that the new kid was right.

After several moments, the surprised teenager came back to his senses.

"That was..." James began, still slightly disoriented.

"...he outsmarted us," Sirius said, blinking in surprise.

"And to top it all off," Remus said, fighting the smile that was forcing its way onto his face, "he beat you without violence of any sort. No insults, no spells."

Sirius cringed. "I know."

Peter was looking at his friends in awe. "You're just going to let him get the better of you? You're a Marauder, for Merlin's sake!"

"I know that, Peter," James said without his usual arrogance, "But he had a point."

Remus didn't fight the smile this time, instead letting it form fully on his face. He knew what Harry was; it was hard for him not to – he smelled so sweet. Like sugar and strawberries. And it seemed that his friends might accept him, might finally see the error their ways had been for the past five years, even though Harry was—

"But he's still a Slytherin," Peter continued, as if James' comment had been of no consequence. "Obviously he was just trying to confuse you."

"Yeah, of course," Sirius said, his voice picking up with his confidence. "He's just a Slytherin; like Snivellus."

Remus felt his spirits falling. He'd thought they'd learned, but...

"There's something wrong about that Slythe kid," James concluded, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Remus sighed. If only they knew.

* * *

**_Vicki:_ "Well, if it isn't old Snivellus' Death Eater friend," James drawled in a tone that Harry found he hated more than Malfoy's purr.**

**_Dray:_ Malfoy's purr?! That's smexy... Though I do suggest you change the adjective as you're searching for a hated tone.**

**_Vicki:_ "Harry doesn't like cats," Vicki deadpanned.**

**_Dray:_ lmfao, you not only used your favourite word, but literally included yourself in the story!**

**_Vicki:_ Literally. And to top it all off, I won the argument.**

**Vicki's note: There's another chapter out. Unfortunately, it took a lot more time than we thought it would (we planned for it to be out Monday), and so this means we won't have time to get you another one before Christmas break, as Dray is leaving while _school is still in session. _The prat. Anyways, we had some fun this chapter, and we've got the story - mostly - planned out. The only challenge now is putting it into words that are understandable to you (the two of us plus another seem to have some sort of twin-speak going on with each other... or, eh, triplet-speak).**

**Author's Note: So yeah! It's up, and I guess we'll see you guys in a few weeks? Please make sure to leave us a review! They are motivation!! ;D**


	4. Absolutely Ordinary

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light:**

**Chapter 3 - Absolutely Ordinary**

**-~-**

"What was that?" Charlie asked irately as he was dragged across the Great Hall toward the Slytherin table by Harry.

"I didn't want to deal with them," came the gruff response. "Besides," Harry continued as he sat down next to the still-fuming Slytherin, "I'm hungry."

A sound suspiciously like a snort came from Snape, who was once again seated beside the vampire.

Opting to ignore Snape's contribution, Harry reached for his pumpkin juice, adding a spoonful of sugar to it before taking a large gulp.

"I just don't understand," the tanned boy continued, disregarding Harry's strange eating habits. "They're Gryffindors."

Harry quirked one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "And what exactly," he intoned in his best imitation of a pureblood drawl, "Does that have to do with anything?"

Charlie obviously seemed stumped; Harry took his moment of silence to grab a jar of strawberry jam off the table and a long-handled sundae spoon. He ate a dollop of jam before pausing. Blinking slowly, Harry offered the jar to Charlie.

"N-no thank you," a bewildered Charlie declined, shaking his head at his friend.

Harry shrugged. If Charlie didn't want any, that was his problem.

"Anyways," he continued between bites of strawberry jam, "They're harmless."

"Harmless?" Snape, appalled, interjected from beside Harry, using no effort to disguise the fact that he had been eavesdropping, "The Marauders are _anything _but harmless. One week with them and you will see this."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know, they're gits," he conceded. "They've probably also tried to kill you at some point or another here – at least, Black probably did. Maybe Pettigrew; he seems the type. But Potter-" the name felt strange on his tongue, "-wouldn't want something like murder, intentional or not, on his hands. And Remus would just be devastated, I'm sure."

Snape's eyes widened at Harry's accurate description of the attempt on his life the year before, but it was Charlie who spoke up. "You got all of that from one meeting with them?" he asked incredulously, an eyebrow cocked skeptically.

"Two," the vampire corrected. "Severus and I ran into them last night." He cast a challenging glance at Snape, just _daring_ him to say that he couldn't use his first name. The Slytherin said nothing.

"Still," Charlie continued, unabashed, "How can you tell?"

Harry shrugged, refusing to answer. Anything he said would either be a lie or so unbelievable that they would _think_ that it was a lie. Instead, he had another spoonful of jam.

"So what class do we have next?" Harry asked, effectively changing the subject.

Charlie pulled out his schedule from his back pocket. "Care of Magical Creatures," he said, standing up abruptly. "Which means that we should go now or we'll be late."

"You took Care of Magical Creatures?" Snape scoffed as Charlie shuffled Harry out of the Great Hall. "That's-" His sentence was cut off as Harry closed the door behind himself.

* * *

Fortunately for Harry, they were learning about Hippogriffs in their first Care of Magical Creatures class. Nothing eventful happened, and as Hagrid wasn't the teacher in '76, the students weren't in any danger at all.

And, as a bonus, there was not a Marauder in sight.

Normally, Harry would have been more than thrilled to spend classes with the Marauders, but it seemed that they were unable to see past Harry's Slytherin exterior – as if the House made the person. Even if that person wasn't actually a person and in fact _ate_ people... but still. He'd only tasted human blood once, and that couldn't count – if he hadn't, he'd have died. As it was Harry only fed about once a week, and only ever on animals.

Harry started. He couldn't start thinking about blood, he'd go crazy. He could already feel the dark circles under his eyes growing more prominent, his pupils contracting into slits...

He shook his head, returning his attention to the Professor. A lot of what he was saying resembled the lesson Hagrid had taught in Harry's third year – show respect to the Hippogriff, bow first, and never, _ever_ insult it.

Harry stretched idly, once again feeling out of place. Everyone here was learning everything as if it was new – which, for them, it was – but he was ahead of everyone, and becoming seriously bored. But he had said he'd take everything he'd passed, and that included Care of Magical Creatures.

At least Charlie seemed to be completely into the class.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures was finally over for the day, and with it Harry's first day of classes was over. He still had several hours to wait before dinner, but that was alright. He could wander the school; see if he could find something in the library, maybe.

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked when Harry was obviously not following him down into the dungeons.

Harry shrugged, pausing just long enough to reply, "Around. I thought I'd see where my feet would take me."

He continued his trek, heading up the stairs and started on his long journey to the fourth floor – and thus to the library (not that anyone would know that that was his intention; Harry planned on taking the 'scenic' route).

"What if you get lost?" Charlie called as he ran up to his companion.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure everyone gets lost in this place. It's awfully big." He pursed his lips, waiting for the inevitable 'that's what she said'.

Charlie surprised him by saying nothing. Then again, the young vampire realized, that joke probably hadn't existed in 1976. It was only just starting to spread around in '96. However, he realized that the Slytherin teen had no intention of leaving him. Sighing internally, Harry decided he'd have a bit of fun.

"So, where's the library?" he asked nonchalantly, leading Charlie onto the second floor, in the direction of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom - and, of course, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"The fourth floor," came the boy's disgruntled reply. "Where are you going?"

Harry shrugged, a smirk dancing across his lips for a second before disappearing, completely unnoticed by the other boy. "I'm following the snakes, of course."

"Of course," Charlie nodded. Then, after taking a moment to register what his friend said, he retorted, "What snakes?"

"The snakes in the walls, obviously," Harry said, walking right into the girl's washroom.

"This is a girl's bathroom!" the vexed teenager exclaimed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching him before he followed his friend into the washroom.

Harry stopped suddenly and Charlie walked right into him. "What are you-"

"_Shh_," Harry hissed, rounding on his friend. "Don't you know where we are? Show some respect." His eyes were hidden in shadow, and his hair fell into them. As he moved forward his hair shifted to reveal his lightning bolt scar.

Charlie's eyes widened as he backed away from the other boy, his breathing coming out in short rasps. "Harry?" he asked quietly, "A-are you okay?"

Harry took another few steps forward before mumbling something under his breath; it sounded to Charlie more hiss-like than anything else. Charlie backed into the wall as Harry shuffled toward him; his palms were starting to sweat and his breath began to leave him in quick pants. But still Harry advanced, a low hiss emitting from between his pale lips and shadows darkened his face.

"Wh-what?" Charlie stammered, trying to find some escape from the terror his friend had become.

"I said," Harry hissed at his friend, lifting his chin so light graced his features. "You should see the look on your face." His face lit up in a very unSlytherin-like grin.

Charlie: 1, Harry: 1

Charlie blinked uncomprehendingly for several minutes. "You prat," he said, affectionately punching his shoulder as he followed him out of the washroom and into the corridor. "What was all of that about, anyway?" he asked as they headed in the direction of the library.

"Hmm?" Harry asked, casting an amused glance at his friend.

"You asked me if I knew what that place was," he pressed.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that. Now quit stalling and tell me already!"

The vampire shrugged lazily. "The second floor girl's washroom, I suppose," he replied cheekily. No need startling the boy with his intricate knowledge of the school and its

Chamber, after all.

"Git."

* * *

The two teenagers finally reached the fourth floor, and Charlie led him to the library. As Harry entered, he saw that his cohort was not following him in, so he turned and raised an eyebrow questioningly at the Slytherin.

"I've got better things to do than sit in the library," Charlie said noncommittally. "At least now you're not lost."

And with that, he was gone.

Harry shrugged to himself. If Charlie didn't want to stay, he didn't have to. Harry would just have to remember to look lost later, when he was going down to dinner.

He turned and entered the library, quickly finding an empty table to which he placed his books and bag. He sat down quietly, figuring he may as well get his homework done – first day of school or not. The vampire quickly got to work, starting with his essay on the Draught of Living Death for Potions class. The essay didn't have to be long – roughly 1,000 words – but he reckoned that it would be best to get it done quickly.

After an hour of scribbling down on parchment furiously, Harry had nearly completed his essay. He set his quill down silently and flexed his fingers, trying to work out the kinks in his cramped hand and wrist muscles.

It was then that Harry caught the scent of wilderness – of pine and freshly cut grass and summer rain. But there was also the undertone of something wild - animalistic. He looked up from his parchment to see the shy werewolf approaching his table. He smiled wanly at Remus Lupin, silently offering a seat to the Gryffindor.

"Thank you," the werewolf said, sitting down delicately. "I hate to disturb you, but all of the other tables are full."

Harry blinked. "It's no problem at all, really."

"Your expression says otherwise," the boy added patiently.

Harry sighed quietly, "I'm just tired of essays already; that's all."

Remus' eyes crinkled in that caring smile that Harry had missed so dearly. It had been his beacon of hope when Harry had first been turned; his proof that even if he wasn't fully human, he wasn't a monster. He reached into his robe pocket and drew out a bar of chocolate, offering it to Harry.

Obviously, he still believed that chocolate was the cure to everything.

Harry happily accepted it; he happened to agree with the werewolf.

"Thank you," he said, taking a tantalizing bite of the chocolate. Remus always had had the best taste in sugary foods, Harry recalled.

Remus grinned at the vampire. "Don't mention it." And he meant that. He knew what it was like to be the outsider; to be a monster. He knew what it felt like to be alone, to be the outcast, when no one truly understood how he felt no matter how much they _said_ that they did.

And now he knew someone who was like him - if not exactly the same, at least they had similar experiences.

The two lapsed into companionable silence as they worked on their assignments.

Another forty-five minutes passed before Harry sat back, homework finished, and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't worked so hard in years, since – since his sixth year, really.

And with Remus, he really didn't mind. With the young werewolf, he felt almost human again.

Harry took in the peaceful silence of the library to examine his new acquaintance. Unlike the werewolf Harry knew with the shaggy dark hair streaked with grey, this Remus Lupin had brown hair so light it could almost be considered blond arranged in a casual disarray, as if he had simply forgotten to brush it after a shower. His skin was slightly tanned as opposed to the pallor that Harry had known, and he looked healthier and happier. His robes were in less than perfect condition; but Remus never had had much money. And besides, he didn't seem to care that his clothes weren't the best.

Really, he looked like a man whose only worry was getting his assignments in on time.

Several minutes passed before Harry realized that Remus was looking back at him, amusement shining in his eyes. "All finished?" the boy asked, a smile dancing across his features.

Harry nodded slowly.

"I'm just about done, too," Remus said, cocking his head slightly to the right. His fringe dropped over his eyes for a moment before he brushed it back carelessly with a hand.

"I meant to apologize," the werewolf continued after another moment had passed. "For my friends, I mean," he clarified when Harry remained silent.

"It's alright," Harry said, resting his chin in his hand. "I understand, you know. I'm a Slytherin now. We're not exactly the nicest bunch, are we?"

Remus chuckled despite himself. "No, I suppose you're not."

Harry smiled when Remus' eyes widened. What had he just said? He'd just openly insulted the poor vampire, how could he be so-

"It's okay, Remus," Harry said quietly, an amused glint entering his eyes. "I said it first."

The Gryffindor nodded, feeling guilty despite the other boy's assurance.

"Now," Harry continued, "I believe we should be headed to the Great Hall now, right?"

He smirked sweetly at the confused wolf. "For dinner?"

"Oh, right!" he said, standing up abruptly and gathering his possessions. "I forgot," he admitted sheepishly.

Harry chuckled, following the other boy out of the library.

"So, I was wondering..." Remus began as the two of them descended the staircase to the third floor.

"Hmm?" Harry urged him on, striding casually alongside the prefect.

"Earlier today, with the Marauders," he paused. Did Harry even know who the Marauders were? "You know, my friends," he explained. When Harry nodded in understanding, he continued, "You compared my name to 'Romulus'. I was wondering why."

Harry snorted. Of all of the things he had expected the werewolf to ask, that was definitely not one of them.

"Because," Harry stated matter-of-factly, "Romulus was the other son of Mars to be raised by a she-wolf." He absentmindedly took another bite of his chocolate.

Remus blinked uncomprehendingly. "...What?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain further when the other three Marauders sidled up to them. Harry sighed inwardly. Wasn't this just his luck? And to top it off, they looked like they had been in a fight. He could see a dark bruise forming on James' left cheekbone, and Sirius had a slight limp. Peter walked beside James, holding his right elbow gingerly.

"Hey, Moony," James said self-importantly, seemingly oblivious to his growing discolouration, "I see you've caught a Slytherin."

"Well done," Sirius contributed, clapping his werewolf friend on the back. "I always knew you had it in you."

Peter didn't contribute; he was too busy sending death glares at Harry.

"Actually," Harry said, thinking quickly, "I met him on the fourth floor. I was lost, and he offered to show me the way back to the Great Hall. He _is_ a prefect, after all. It's his job." He raised an eyebrow at the Marauders. He knew Remus would disapprove of his tale, but he also knew that the three Gryffindors would think poorly of their friend actually acting civil with a Slytherin simply because he could – or, perish the thought, because it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes, it sucked being the responsible one, Harry reflected. It made his head hurt.

James narrowed his eyes at Harry, obviously disbelieving of the vampire's story. However, he was forced to back down when Remus showed no intentions of proving Harry wrong. He turned his back on the Slytherin, grabbing Remus' arm and towing him toward the Great Hall.

Harry rolled his eyes at the display, but followed the four students into the Hall, breaking away from them at the first chance possible and retreating to the Slytherin table.

He didn't even notice Remus looking back at him.

Harry sat down heavily between Snape and Charlie, dropping the remainder of his chocolate bar on the table.

"Is something wrong?" Charlie asked, glancing at the half eaten chocolate.

Snape scoffed from Harry's other side. "Probably another run-in with the almighty Marauders."

Harry rested his head in his hands. "Severus is right," he said quietly. "They're just bullies." He closed his eyes. He knew this wasn't right; his parents were good people, his dad was a hero.

But was that because he spent his school years bullying Slytherins?

"Are you okay?" Snape asked, uncharacteristically kind.

"Headache," Harry replied simply. And it was true. How long had he gone without blood? Either way, he was starting to feel it. It was a constant struggle just to keep his appearance normal.

Snape furrowed his brow slightly, but gave no other indication that he was actually concerned. "Maybe you should turn in?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

Charlie looked pointedly at the chocolate bar again. "Not going to finish your dinner?" he joked.

Harry looked up for a second before resting his head again. "Not hungry," he mumbled childishly.

The other Slytherin quirked an eyebrow, but made no comment. Snape stood up abruptly, grabbing Harry's arm. "Come on," he said, dragging Harry into a standing position. "If you're not going to get up on your own..."

From across the table, Rosier laughed. "What are you doing, Severus? Leave the jerk alone."

"He's probably just homesick," Mulciber continued.

"Does ickle Slythe miss his mummy?" a smirking Wilkes contributed.

Harry stopped long enough to send the Slytherins a snake-like glare. "My parents were killed by Voldemort. It's nice to see you're following his example though." He continued walking; this time dragging a shell-shocked Snape with him.

* * *

Harry slumped against the wall of the dungeons, sliding unceremoniously to the floor. He shielded his eyes from the dim light, his head falling back against the wall.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked, shuffling awkwardly in place.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry lied. "I just need-"

"Yes?"

"Sleep, I guess," he finished lamely.

Snape produced a sound suspiciously like a snort. "Yeah, okay." Despite his obvious disbelief, he helped Harry stand once more, supporting him as they walked back to the Slytherin common room. "Were your parents really killed by the Dark Lord?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Harry huffed. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why was he reacting so poorly to the lack of blood? "My mother was a muggleborn and my father was a pureblood." He paused for a moment, wondering if Snape would acknowledge their similarities. "My parents were killed when I was one.

"I ended up living with my muggle relatives," Harry continued quietly as they walked through the dank dungeons. He hoped that he could show Snape that just because his life was horrible, he didn't have to turn to the resident Dark Lord. "They were awful," he let out a cough-like laugh before continuing, "My bedroom for ten years was the cupboard under the stairs."

"And why did they change?" the Slytherin asked before he could help himself.

Harry laughed humourlessly. "I discovered magic. For ten years they tried beating it out of me, but when I learned that it existed..." he opened his eyes and looked at Snape. "I got my Hogwarts letter when I turned eleven. It was addressed to Harry Po-" he stopped himself quickly, covering his slip with a gut-wrenching cough. "Harry Slythe," he continued, closing his eyes again, "The cupboard under the stairs. They thought Professor Dumbledore was watching, so they moved me into my cousin's second bedroom."

Snape's brow furrowed in confusion. "If you were accepted into Hogwarts, why didn't you come?" he asked curiously.

Harry smiled weakly past his headache. "They didn't want me to go. But things are different now; it's like they never existed." Harry technically wasn't lying, but he was still worried. Snape was a gifted legilimens as an adult; he wasn't sure how talented he was as a teenager.

Harry could _feel_ Snape's eyes widening in disbelief, but the boy said nothing. They rounded the last corner before stopping in front of the wall hiding the Slytherin House. The Half-Blood Prince muttered the password and helped Harry into common room.

"Thanks," the vampire said quietly, breaking away from his peer and shuffling over to the nearest couch. He fell heavily onto it, letting his bag fall onto the floor beside him.

After a moment, Harry asked, "Why are you helping me?"

Snape shrugged, although the action was lost on the vampire. He walked over to the armchair next to Harry and collapsed ungracefully into it. He let out a short huff as he hit the cushion and rested his head on the back.

And that's when Harry caught the scent.

Blood – coppery and tangy and sweet at the same time. He was at a loss as to how he could have missed it before, but it was there; it was fighting against his senses, in turn making him fight his own instincts. It was telling him he was hungry, he needed blood _now_ and it was there waiting for him.

And it was increased tenfold because he hadn't fed in Merlin knew how long.

Harry groaned, cracking open an eyelid and glaring at Snape, the cause for his agony.

"You're bleeding," he stated, closing his eyes once more. How had he missed the blood covering the Slytherin's face and shirt?

"I was," Snape conceded, his own eyes closed.

"You were in a fistfight with the Marauders." It wasn't a question.

Snape answered Harry with silence, wondering where the other boy was going with the conversation.

The vampire opened his eyes again, fighting harder against his need since discovering the cause of his pain. What he saw was that Snape's nose was disjointed; more likely broken than not. And if he hadn't gone to see Madam Pomfrey-

-well, that certainly explained future-Snape's crooked nose.

"I can fix that," Harry said tiredly, forcing himself into an upright position. His eyes were burning from his struggle, and his throat felt like it was on fire. For a moment he lost himself as his fangs slid out of their sheaths and cut into his lip. He licked the blood from his mouth before racking his brain for the incantation he wanted.

"_Episkey_," he said, recalling the incantation Tonks had used on his broken nose in '96 after Malfoy had broken it. Snape's nose promptly snapped back into place, mending the break seamlessly. After a moment of thought he added, "_Tergeo_," effectively wiping the dried blood from the boy's face and clothes. He then proceeded to collapse back onto the couch, squeezing his eyes shut.

He didn't even notice that he forgot to use his wand.

"How do I look?" Snape asked after sitting in awe for several minutes.

"Exceptionally ordinary," Harry replied weakly. Without the smell of blood in the room, he was starting to feel better. Already the pain was receding from behind his closed eyes, and his fangs had returned painlessly to their sheaths. Still, he would have to feed soon – if he didn't, this whole mess could repeat, and with worse consequences than a headache.

Snape let out a low chuckle despite himself, his own headache gone along with his broken nose. "Thank you," he said silkily. Harry didn't miss the way the words seemed uncomfortable as they were spoken.

It was a start

* * *

"You _what_?!" Remus asked his friends incredulously as they walked to the Gryffindor common room. He must have heard wrong; there was _no way_ that they-

"We broke his nose," Peter said happily.

"He didn't really put up much of a fight," Sirius continued, seemingly oblivious to his own limp.

"Well," James conceded, "He put up a bit of a fight." He rubbed his fingers gingerly over his bruised cheekbone. Snivellus had done some damage to them, despite the fact that it had been three against one in the Marauders' favour. He'd managed to sprain Sirius' ankle with a well-aimed kick, bruise Peter's humerus, and crack James' cheekbone. It might have actually worried them if they weren't used to getting similar and worse injuries due from Remus being a werewolf.

Sirius seemed completely unconcerned. "It was nothing."

Despite the Marauder's jovial conversation, Remus was furious. How could they even think of doing such a thing? It was bad enough that they would attack Snape at all – for being a Slytherin, no less – but the consequences...

"How bad was it?" Remus asked quietly, fighting his werewolf-level anger.

"I already told you it wasn't bad," Sirius said, glancing at his friend.

"Yes, but how bad was Snape's injury?"

"Why do you even care? He's just a Slytherin," Peter said carelessly.

Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm a prefect," he explained lamely. "Just tell me."

James snorted in a very unpureblood-like fashion. "He certainly bled a lot," he said proudly as the Marauders ascended the stairs to the seventh floor.

The werewolf pinched the bridge of his nose and tried desperately to calm himself. _I must not attack my friends. I must not attack my friends._

"What's wrong Moony?" Sirius asked with concern.

"What's wrong," the werewolf started, "Is how brash you guys are being."

"What do you mean?" James asked curiously.

"I don't know when you guys started _beating_ people, but I've had enough of it. Not only did you _break Snape's nose_, but you probably caused Harry to suffer too," he said angrily.

"Slythe? How would he suffer?" Peter asked as he made it up the last step to the seventh floor.

"Well, he-" Remus stopped. They didn't know that Harry was a vampire. And it would be completely tactless of him to mention it to the Marauders. They may have accepted Remus as a werewolf, but...

...but he was a Gryffindor. He sighed dejectedly.

"Yes?" James prompted after several minutes had passed. The group was nearing the Fat Lady's portrait, and soon they'd lose their privacy.

"Well, you're targeting Harry too," Remus finished lamely, "Just because he was sorted into the 'wrong house'." His voice carried a disgusted tone as he spoke, and his nose wrinkled in poorly-masked fury. "Today you broke Snape's nose; tomorrow you're breaking Harry's legs."

Peter looked at Remus angrily. "Why do you care?" he asked again. "And since when are you on a first-name basis with Slythe?"

"We already agreed that there was something really wrong about that kid," James put in as if it were a justification for their wrongdoings.

"Something evil," Sirius added enthusiastically.

Remus rolled his eyes and furrowed his brows angrily. Harry wasn't evil. It was obvious that he knew Remus was a werewolf; just as Remus knew Harry was a vampire. And yet he didn't attack Remus or hate him, despite knowing that the quickest way to kill a vampire was to sick a werewolf on it.

"He's not evil," Remus said defensively. He wasn't going to let anyone insult his new friend for no reason – even if his best friends were the ones being cruel.

"Then what is he?" Peter demanded.

"He's ordinary," Remus said, unaware that his Slytherin comrade was speaking those very words in the dungeons. "Absolutely ordinary."

**

* * *

**

**_Vicki:_ "But was that because he spent his school years bullying Slytherins?"**

**_Dray:_ Yeah.**

**_Vicki:_ It was rhetorical.**

**_Dray:_ Doesn't mean that I can't answer. Just means that I'm not supposed to ;)**

**_Vicki:_ You're crazy.**

**_Dray:_ Why, thank you.**

**Vicki's note: Alright, so there's another chapter out, as promised. And bonus: it's longer than the others! Whoot. So we'll start on the next chapter eventually; we just had a little error with the class schedule so we have to fix that first. Add to that my incredibly annoying extra-curriculars and voila! No time. But we'll work on it.**

**Author's Note: So yeah. A lot of humor in this one, and squeels I'm sure...**

**Please review!! We appreciate your comments!!**


	5. I Feel Like a Vampire

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters, nor anything else you might recognize. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**-~-**

**Chapter 4: I Feel Like a Vampire**

**-~-**

Midnight found Harry Potter – now Harry Slythe – slinking through the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It had been simple getting out of the Slytherin dormitory, really. The real challenge was getting out of the castle itself. But he would gladly face the terrors of the school ghosts any day over what might happen if he didn't get out of there _now_. Try as he might to deny it, he was a vampire. And he needed blood.

Harry froze as he heard footsteps echoing off the stone of the dungeon corridors. On instinct, he melted into the shadows just as McGonagall rounded the corner. Harry's emerald eyes followed the woman as she passed by, not paying him any notice. He held his breath for as long as he could, making no sound until the old woman was out of the range of his senses. He let out his breath in a large huff the instant he deemed it safe. Harry bent over, placed his hands on his knees, and struggled to regulate his breathing once more.

Sure, he was dead, but that didn't mean he could hold his breath forever.

Wiping a pale hand over his face after he calmed his breathing, Harry continued his trek to the secret passageway that led onto the school's grounds.

The vampire finally reached the end of a long corridor, and placed his hand on the brick in the center. He then moved his hand two spaces left and three down before pushing against the wall. It seemed to groan in protest as the bricks slid apart to create a hole large enough for a man to walk through. Harry slid through the hole, barely noticing as the bricks closed behind him. He surveyed his surroundings, noting with slight surprise that he was by the edge of the Lake. It had never occurred to him that the dungeons would be by the lake, despite the fact that the Slytherin common room itself was _under_ the lake. Shrugging in the darkness, Harry turned and continued on to the Forbidden Forest.

-~-

Treading softly through the Forest, Harry searched for prey. His pupils had dilated beyond that of any human's, leaving only a slight ring of green on the edge of his irises. The pale moonlight filtering through the trees cast long shadows on his features, creating a beauty unlike any other. His eyes darted hastily in every direction, his superior vision breaching even the darkest of hiding places as his bare feet whispered along the undergrowth.

He was the perfect hunter, and this was his element.

The soft crunch of hooves on earth alerted Harry to the fact that he was being watched. The vampire knew the centaurs would be curious about him, and was unsurprised that they had found him so quickly – the _stars _had probably told them when and where he'd be. It was the fact that there was only one following that surprised him.

Harry glided through the forest for another fifteen minutes before movement unlike the centaurs' caught his attention. He immediately altered his course, steering sharply to the left to find his target. The centaur shadowed him, the slight noise of his hooves the only reminder that he was still there.

The vampire moved to the edge of a small clearing in the trees, where he spotted a lone Hippogriff trotting through the brambles. Harry slunk toward the creature, stopping when it turned a baleful eye toward him. The young vampire bowed deeply, never losing eye contact with the beautiful creature. A lock of feathery hair fell to partially cover his right eye as the wind blew through the trees.

Several moments of silence passed before the creature bowed back.

Harry didn't smile as he walked slowly toward the majestic creature; instead mourning the sacrifice it would soon be forced make. He lifted his hand and ran it gently through the creature's feathered neck, murmuring praise at the beautiful beast.

From the shadows, the centaur stirred.

Harry brought his lips close to the beast's neck, kissing its collar before allowing his unsheathed fangs to slide into its artery. He coaxed the creature to the ground, kneeling before it as he drank its life force.

The Hippogriff didn't fight.

When Harry had drunk what he needed, he drank no more; instead brushing his cool fingers over the lesion in the creature's neck.

"Thank you for what you have given me," he murmured, his face covered in shadow as he knelt by the wounded creature. "Your sacrifice has given me life." He stood after running his fingers through bloodied feathers one last time.

In the cover of trees, the centaur trotted away.

Only then did Harry acknowledge the presence that had been following him; tilting his head in the direction of the retreating beast, before returning to his home.

Behind him, in the small glade, the Hippogriff rose.

-~-

Harry returned to the Slytherin Common Room just past 2 a.m., his shirt covered in blood and his pant legs sporting stains of grass. He pulled his shirt over his head and whipped it into the fireplace as he passed, muttering a quick fire spell over his shoulder as he snuck into the sixth year boys' dorm rooms. In the common room, the fireplace lit and the shirt was no more.

The vampire walked towards his bed, kicked open his trunk, and shucked his stained muggle jeans in favour of plaid pyjama bottoms. Opting to remain shirtless, the teen reached for the copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard _that Hermione had given him before settling into his previously unoccupied bed.

Harry idly turned the pages of his worn book, seeing the words but not really comprehending them. He was always like this after he fed; his mind wandered and his conscience plagued him.

It was bliss.

-~-

Severus woke at precisely 5:30 in the morning, sliding out of his bed quietly and glancing around the room to be sure he had disturbed no one. It wasn't that he cared if they woke up, really; he just liked having time alone, where no one would bother him. At home, it was his only comfort.

Severus nodded to himself when he saw that the curtains around each bed were still drawn. He padded across the floor and into the common room, heading toward the washrooms. He noticed that there were still some embers glowing in the fireplace, though it should've been properly out hours ago. He paid it no mind as he entered the attached washroom, quickly showering and dressing, doing his absolute best to wash the grease out of his hair.

It wasn't _his_ fault that his love for potions made it impossible to have clean hair...

Only fifteen minutes had passed before the teen was back in the common room and striding toward the bookshelves. He rubbed his eyes absently as they skimmed the names of the books.

He didn't even hear the other boy until a silky voice said, "I never knew you were such an early riser."

Severus silently congratulated himself for not jumping at the sudden noise before turning and glaring at a smug Harry Slythe.

"You are a fine one to talk," Severus said in a voice as silky as the vampire's. "Usually people sleep more after being as ill as you were last night." He quirked a dark eyebrow at the other boy.

Harry shrugged his shoulders lazily. "I feel better now," he said as he threw himself onto a couch.

Severus scoffed at the boy's attitude but said nothing. Instead he grabbed the first book he saw on the shelf and sat delicately in an armchair. He rifled through the pages for several minutes, content to ignore the new Slytherin, who was staring at him.

Eventually, the teen decided that being watched was getting tiresome. He looked up from his book and demanded, "Is there a reason that you're gawking at me?"

The boy started, clearly surprised by Severus' question. It was evident that Harry wore his heart on his sleeve; he wouldn't last until the end of the week in Slytherin if this kept up.

"No," Harry said, sitting back and closing his eyes. Severus furrowed his brows as Harry remained annoyingly silent. It was starting to unnerve the Half-Blood Prince, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Thank you," he blurted, surprising even himself.

Harry's eyes flashed open, and he sat in reticence for some time before asking in confusion, "For what?"

Severus barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes – although it was a very close call. "For fixing my nose last night, obviously."

Harry blinked stupidly. "Well, if I hadn't, it would have set crookedly."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. How did this boy know whether his nose would set crookedly or not? "And how do you know this?" he inquired.

Harry snorted. "Because you clearly had no intention of journeying to the Hospital Wing."

Severus looked disdainfully at the teen. "You're a hypocrite."

Harry smirked before retorting, "And loving every second of it."

Severus sneered in response to his roommate's comment. The expression, the comeback - Why did he have to suddenly be so – so... So _Slytherin_? Harry's behaviour in switching between a sugar-crazed, emotional Hufflepuff to a cunning, mocking Slytherin was annoying Severus to no end. How was he supposed to decipher this bloke when he was practically bipolar?!

It was then that a very groggy Charlie stumbled down the stairs leading to the common room. Missing the bottom step completely, he fell to the ground with a resounding _thud_. He got up quickly and brushed the dust off of his clothes nonchalantly, aside from the light blush colouring his cheeks.

Severus noted with hidden amusement that the boy's hair was uncharacteristically ruffled and his shirt was inside-out.

Harry noted it more conspicuously.

The boy collapsed backward onto the couch, loud guffaws escaping from his lips as he held his stomach gingerly.

"Ch-h-charlie," he gasped breathlessly, "Y-you should se-see yourself."

"Shut up," the olive-skinned Slytherin uttered angrily. He took another step before tripping over a misplaced skull and landing heavily facedown on the floor once more. This time he stayed down, grumbling something that sounded to Severus like, 'Slytherin's drawers'.

"I don't think the almighty Salazar Slytherin would appreciate you talking about his underwear," Harry said, confirming Severus' suspicion. He walked over to Charlie and nudged his side with a bare-footed toe.

Severus fought the smile that threatened to form on his face. The display of the two – while highly inappropriate – was incredibly amusing to watch.

But such amusements were not meant to last.

Harry stiffened seconds before Severus heard footsteps sounding through the room. After another few seconds Evan Rosier descended the stairs, nearly tripping over Charlie as he crossed the room. He sneered down at the still boy before raising a hateful gaze to Harry. The teen responded by curling his upper lip in disdain. His eyes shone unnaturally – but that could easily have been the lighting.

Or the lack thereof.

Several moments of tense silence ensued before Charlie stood, dusted and set his clothes again, and laughed shakily.

"Well," he said loudly, "Let's go, Harry. We should head to breakfast if we hope to grab something." He then proceeded to drag the disgruntled teen out of the room.

"Never thought they'd leave," Rosier scoffed as he plopped onto the couch that had been vacated by Harry.

"I know," Mulciber said as he joined them in the common room. Avery soon joined their group, rubbing a hand tiredly over his eyes.

"Why are you guys up so early, anyways?" Avery demanded angrily as he collapsed into a chair.

Severus sighed and placed his book on a table as a bad job. Even if he wanted to read it, he wouldn't be able to around this group. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why he hung out with them. The only person he had a remote amount of respect for was Rosier, and that was a close call. He supposed he tolerated them because they were his roommates.

Or maybe because they were his only defence against the Marauders.

There was always Lily, of course, but she was one of them – a Gryffindor. What hope did he have?

Especially now that Potter had set his sights on her.

Severus leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he rested his head. He didn't want to be a Death Eater; and that's where his _friends_ seemed to be headed.

But now – now that that Slythe kid had shown up...

Well.

Perhaps there was hope yet.

-~-

"_Slow down!_" Charlie huffed as he chased the dark haired Slytherin through the halls. They were already running late by the time they had arrived in the Great Hall, but Harry had insisted that they stop and eat – probably because he had missed his regular intake of sugar the night before. So now they were forced to run in the hopes that they'd make it to the greenhouses for Herbology before they lost Slytherin house points.

Harry snorted indignantly. "You speed up."

Charlie furrowed his brow as he complied; quickly losing breath as he did so. "Do you – do you even know where we're supposed to be?"

Harry scoffed. "I'm not daft. Your schedule said greenhouse three, so I'm going toward the greenhouses."

Charlie:1; Harry:2

The two Slytherins stumbled into greenhouse three just as Charlie's name was called.

"Present," he huffed, raising a hand weakly. He was pitched forward, hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breathing.

Harry, much to Charlie's annoyance, looked as if he'd just taken a stroll through the park.

Professor Sprout raised an eyebrow questioningly at the two boys, but continued on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"What can you tell me about Devil's Snare?" she inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

Harry rocked back on his heels, giving the class an opportunity to answer before he raised his own hand slowly.

"Ah – Mr. Slythe, is it? – what do you know about it?"

"Well," Harry began, thinking back to his first year. What had Hermione said? "Devil's Snare is made up of tendrils and vines. They have some sense of touch, and use their tendrils to search out their prey." He paused for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, before continuing, "They strangle their victims, and any struggling makes them tighten quicker. They prefer dark, damp spaces and despise heat." He cocked his head to the side. "Fire is probably the most effective way to drive it away."

"Very, _very_ good, Mr. Slythe. Five points to Slytherin," Professor Sprout praised, clapping excitedly.

Harry smiled wryly, but he was confused. He had learned about Devil's Snare in his first year, so why were they learning about it now? And why did they need to learn about it in Herbology in the first place? Sure it was a plant, but it wasn't like they were going to learn how to grow it, right?

...Right?

"Now," the professor continued, seeming to read Harry's mind, "Some of you may be wondering why we're learning about this. Well," she clapped her hands together for emphasis, "We're going to be learning how to grow them!"

Harry groaned. What were these people thinking? Did they _realize_ that they were teaching a bunch of teenagers how to kill people?

A bunch of teenagers who were aching to join the most powerful Dark Lord of the time, no less.

"Now, what you do is..."

-~-

"How do you know so much?" Charlie demanded as he and Harry rushed back to the school to find their Defence classroom.

Harry eyed his friend, but remained silent as they clambered up the steps into the Entrance Hall.

"What do you think we're going to learn about?" Harry asked, effectively changing the subject.

"I'm not sure," Charlie responded as they jogged to their classroom. "But I heard our new teacher is a bit of a dark creature fanatic."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Remus had adopted this teacher's style of teaching?

The two Slytherins entered their DADA classroom and quickly took their seats.

Shortly after they sat down, their new defence teacher strode into the room. A long dragon hide cloak flapped around her ankles; the colours shifting between silver and blue in the pale lighting. She seemed slight in build; a thin frame and no taller than Harry himself.

"Hullo, class," the professor said, taking her wand in her left hand and flicking it at the blackboard. The words _Professor Korey_ scrawled themselves onto the surface in distinctively pointed writing. "I'm Professor Korey," she pointed her wand at the board, "And I will be your Defence teacher for this year. Any questions?"

Seeing there were none, she nodded brusquely. "Good, good."

She promptly started the roll-call before anyone had a chance to blink.

Professor Korey took off her coat and set it over her chair. Under her cloak Harry saw she wore a form-fitting black tee with several belts wrapped around her torso carrying a multitude of weapons and vials of potions. Her left arm bore a wand holster made of dragon hide leather, where she had deposited her wand. Her black slacks were hidden under several more belts, each bearing their own arsenal. The legs of her pants were hidden under knee-high boots which were steel-toed, if Harry assumed correctly. He could see yet another dagger sheathed on the inside of her right boot, ready to be used.

After appraising her taste in clothes and equipment, Harry's eyes drifted to look at his teacher's face. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties; a pretty face with high cheekbones, a straight nose and a pointed chin. Her eyes were a bright blue framed by heavy lashes, and she had long, pale blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Over all, she was very pretty, if not a little intimidating.

The daunting effect was ruined, however, when she graced the class with an infinitely wide smile and began to speak.

"Now that we all know each other," she started happily, "It's time to learn some things." She grinned at the collective groans of her students, all too happy to spread misery through the art of teaching.

"Today's lesson is nothing big, don't worry," she reassured the class before again drawing her wand with a flourish and flicking it at the board. "We're going to learn about pogrebins," her name was cleared off the board and was replaced with a note on the creatures. "Now, if you would open your textbooks to page fifty-eight – _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, mind you – and I know you all have that book whether it was assigned or not – that means you too, Mr. Avery – right, there we go."

Harry suppressed a smirk as he opened his textbook. He took out his parchment, inked his quill, and began to copy the note on the board that had appeared moments before.

"Pogrebins are Russian demons," Professor Korey began passionately. "They're usually less than a foot tall, grey, and covered with hair. Their oversized heads, however, are perfectly smooth and resemble a rock. They tend to follow humans – ducking down whenever the human turns to see who's following them. Now, who can tell me what happens if someone is exposed to a pogrebin – for an extended period of time, that is?"

This time it was Charlie who raised his hand.

"Ah, yes, excellent – Mr. Harper, is it? – good, good – what's your answer?"

"If someone is around a pogrebin for too long," Charlie said, quickly consulting his textbook, "They'll become depressed."

"Quite right," the professor said animatedly. "One point to Slytherin! And of course, the person becomes progressively more depressed the longer the creature is following – well, they'll begin to see their existence - and the whole world - as pointless, won't they? – so they'll fall into a pit of despair – actually fall to their knees because of the amount of hopelessness – and the pogrebin will take that opportunity to devour them." She looked excitedly around the class, a dagger at her hip glinting menacingly.

"Now," she continued as she paced around the classroom, "How does one repel a pogrebin?"

A few hands lifted up, and Professor Korey's expression brightened at her class' enthusiasm.

"You – Miss Alice – and then Mr. Slythe after."

"Well," Karen Alice said, pushing up her glasses, "It's quite simple, really. Standard hexes or Stupefying charms will keep them away."

"Quite right," Korey said eagerly. "Two points to Ravenclaw – now, Mr. Slythe?"

Harry smirked in a Slytherin fashion. "I've found that kicking pogrebins works wonders in keeping them away."

Professor Korey absolutely _beamed_. "Fantastic, Mr. Slythe! Not many people – barely anyone, really – ever think of using such a – a Muggle method for this – repelling pogrebins, that is. Five points to Slytherin – for an excellent answer!"

Harry grinned. Professor Korey's enthusiasm was definitely contagious; as he found that he was not the only one who was smiling deliriously and writing notes fervently.

Suddenly, Harry understood why Remus had been more inclined to teach the Defence classes about magical creatures.

-~-

Remus stretched as he exited the NEWT defence class. Their new professor was so enthusiastic he couldn't help but share her sentiments. She just made everything seem so interesting!

Even James and Sirius hadn't seemed to care that they were sitting directly in front of the Slytherins.

"What's wrong, Moony?" Sirius inquired as he sidled up to his friend, clapping him on the back.

Remus winced and rubbed his shoulder idly. The full moon was nearing, and his wolf was becoming restless.

And, of course, that meant he was in more pain than usual.

No one could truly understand the pain that a werewolf experienced. It wasn't like he only hurt before and after the full moon. His very bones were constantly strained from being reformed so violently and so frequently.

This left him incredibly sore every day of his life.

It was hell at first. After his first transformation, Remus had thought he was going to die. He had _wished_ he was. Over time it had become more tolerable; eventually settling into a dull throb that never completely left no matter how relaxed he was. And really, it was that phantom pain that plagued him now. This close to the full moon, his body was _anticipating_ the transformation, and old pains flared up again.

Which is why werewolves were more irritable around this time of the month, and why right now he _really_ wanted to hex Sirius' head off.

"Nothing is wrong," Remus said through gritted teeth. His amber eyes flashed dangerously, appearing inhuman for the briefest of seconds.

Sirius blinked. What had he – oh. _Oh_. "Whoops. Sorry, Moony. I forgot." He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, looking embarrassed.

Remus sighed. "It's alright, Padfoot. You know I can't stay mad at you," he teased.

James smirked as he joined his two friends, slinging an arm over each shoulder. "Come on, guys," he said, casually ignoring Remus' wince and Sirius' glare. "We don't want to be late for lunch. It would upset Peter."

The three walked companionably to the Great Hall to join their housemates for lunch.

-~-

Lunch had passed, and Harry and his friend were headed to their penultimate class of the day – Charms.

Charlie veered off when he and Harry entered their classroom and sat beside a Hufflepuff girl, looking completely content.

Harry surveyed the room to see who he could sit next to. To his dismay, his options were fairly limited.

He could either sit next to Pettigrew or Snape. Seeing no reason to sit next to his least favourite Marauder, Harry sat down gracefully next to Snape. The dark-haired Slytherin eyed him speculatively but said nothing, instead drawing his textbook from his bag as Professor Flitwick entered the room.

"Good afternoon, class," Professor Flitwick greeted cheerfully.

He quickly jumped into roll call, stumbling slightly over Harry's name.

"Mr. Slythe," he chirped, blinking at Harry. "Quite the original name... Any relation to 'Slytherin'? The names are very similar."

Harry smirked. "I've never thought to check," he said dryly with a shrug.

Flitwick seemed to squeak at Harry's tone. He nodded quickly and continued down the list with gusto.

Snape bit back a laugh as he took in his professor's demeanour.

"Think that's funny, do you?" Harry's cold breath brushed across Snape's face as he whispered in his ear.

Snape jumped slightly and turned to glare at a very smug looking Harry.

The vampire leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk dancing across his features.

"Shut up," the Slytherin finally muttered.

Harry smiled at the boy before turning his attention back to Professor Flitwick.

-~-

Harry was walking beside Charlie once more as the two sixth-year Slytherins roamed the halls of Hogwarts. Harry had insisted on dragging Charlie to the library, much to the boy's dismay. Why did he need to finish all of his homework so early in the week, anyways?

Unfortunately, they hadn't made it very far before their path was once again blocked by the Marauders.

"What now?" Harry said sardonically, "Can't you go two hours without bothering me?"

Sirius, who was heading the group for once, blinked distractedly. "What?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "Obviously stupidity is a Gryffindor trait, too," he muttered to his companion.

"I knew it!" Sirius shouted suddenly. All parties present jumped at the pronouncement.

"Knew what?" Charlie cautiously asked.

"I knew you were a Death Eater!" he explained as he pointed a long finger at Harry.

Harry, for his part, tried not to laugh. Really. But Sirius' proclamation was so ridiculous...

The vampire was soon laughing so hard that his eyes were watering and he had to gasp for breath. Anyone walking by stopped to gape at the tickled vampire.

Before Sirius had a chance to take offense at the Slytherin's reaction, however, Harry had righted himself and was glaring coldly at the boy.

"If you had gone through _half_ of what I have because of Voldemort, Black," he said severely, "You would not have the _gall_ to call me a Death Eater."

The last thing the Marauders saw of Harry Slythe that day was his back as he stalked angrily away.

"Harsh," James said quietly from behind his friend.

Peter snorted. "He's a tad oversensitive, isn't he?"

Remus stared at his friends with incredulity. "Oversensitive? Really? Why are you guys being so _daft_?" He soon was stalking off as well, trying to find Harry so that he could apologize.

"Don't worry about him," Sirius said offhandedly. "It's his time of the month."

A few passing students laughed, but the Marauders did not share their humour. Not only had they just pissed off their friend, they'd probably pissed off the werewolf too.

This close to the full moon, it was more likely than not.

-~-

Harry arrived for his astronomy class several hours early. He hadn't even thought to tell Charlie not to try to find him for their midnight class; he wasn't in the mood to socialize.

How _dare_ Sirius say those things to him? What right did he have, assuming that Harry was a Death Eater simply because he was a Slytherin?

Not all Slytherins followed that deranged Lord, especially not if he had any say in how things would happen this time 'round.

It was ambition that drove Slytherins to Voldemort and fear that made them stay. It was courage that kept them in line and cunning that allowed them to stay among the man's ranks as a spy.

It was Slytherin tact that had saved so many lives.

Snape showed all of these; a true Slytherin if ever there was one. He was willing to give everything to keep a promise; to prove that he was an agent of the light.

He gave his life to rid the world of the man who had taken Harry's.

But Severus Snape had not been the only one who had saved lives in his sacrifice. Regulus Black had suffered just as Snape had. He had remained among the Death Eaters, within Voldemort's circle.

And he had given his life to put a dent in the mad man's power.

Both were Slytherins. Never asking for anything; never expecting praise.

Hidden in shadow; doing what needed to be done so that the world could be freed from tyranny.

And Harry himself had given a lot. He had suffered one too many _crucios_ because of that damned curse scar on his forehead. How many broken bones had he received in his short life? And yet he had fought tooth and nail; continuing through the agony.

And for what? To die at the hands of the man he had fought against for so long?

_For the Greater Good_, he reminded himself bitterly.

He'd intended on coming back, of course. Just not – not like this. Not as a monster.

The Horcrux was destroyed, of course; but so was his life.

Harry's eyes screwed shut as he fought back painful tears. Whoever said vampires couldn't cry had lied to him. He could cry. He _did_ cry. He just cried blood instead of water.

_How appropriate_, he thought cynically for the hundredth time.

Harry laid a pale hand over his eyes and languished for the days when life was simple.

-~-

Charlie thought he would have a heart attack from the relief he felt when he saw Harry sitting against a wall near the top of the astronomy tower.

"Thank Merlin," he said. "I thought I'd gotten you lost."

Harry made a noncommittal noise before standing fluidly and walking beside his friend once more.

Professor Sinistra was a lot calmer than the other professors Harry had come across in his school career. She had a laid-back attitude, but at the same time came off as passionate and stern.

She quickly went through roll call before launching the class into a lecture on stars and galaxies.

Each student was given Muggle binoculars to use for the class. As Professor Sinistra spoke, they followed her directions with the binoculars to see what she was referring to.

"And if you look in the constellation Sagittarius," the professor said as she pointed toward the constellation, "You'll find a group of star clouds. That is the center of the Milky Way; our galaxy."

The class was silent for several minutes as they followed Sinistra's instructions.

"Does everyone see it? Good. Now, look up and to the east. There should be a soft pink glow. Can everyone see it?" She looked around the group for confirmation before continuing, "Don't fret if you can't; not many can tell it's pink. This is known as the Trifid Nebula..."

"What are those dark lines?" Harry whispered to Charlie, who seemed to be keeping up perfectly with everything their professor was saying.

Charlie froze for a second before turning to gape at his friend.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Those are dark nebulae," Charlie breathed. "They're like lanes of dust..."

"And?"

"And you can't see them."

"I just did," Harry deadpanned.

Evidently there hadn't been any vampires who had taken an interest in Astronomy.

"But you can't!" Charlie insisted, pointing at the binoculars in Harry's hand. "Not with those! Your pupils would have to be-"

"Be quiet, Mr. Harper," Sinistra said, flashing a _lumos_ at the two boys to identify them in the darkness.

Harry hissed angrily at the sudden pain and covered his eyes, but Charlie had already glimpsed his friend's face.

"Your-" he said, and then stopped himself. How was this possible? Harry's eyes were _all pupil_. It just wasn't humanly possible.

"My what?" Harry said irritably. He silently cursed himself for his slip. He shouldn't have said anything – should have just kept his idiotic mouth shut.

Now look what he'd done.

"Nevermind," Charlie said quickly when Professor Sinistra flashed another angry _lumos_ their way.

Harry's hand was still protecting his eyes.

Sometimes, being a vampire sucked.

* * *

Dray: Explain this to me About his conscience plaguing him...

Vicki: He doesn't _know_ that the Hippogriff lived. He thinks he took a life that night. So that he could live his literal non-life.

Dray: Okay, that's what I sort of thought. That he was being angsty. So then why is the next line, 'It was bliss'?

Vicki: He's a masochist?

**-~-**

**Vicki's Note: This one was difficult to write and -apparently - difficult to edit. Originally it was going to be much shorter, but scenes kept adding themselves and both Dray and I got inspired... And this is the result. It's a bit of a monster compared to the others, so please don't expect anything this long regularly. If I tried writing that much again I think Dray would murder me for making her fix it all. Until next time~**

**Author's Note: It was quite a pain to edit, but it was worth it, ne? The relationships are moving along nicely... Though yeah, this is so _not _the standard length of chapters. Hope you enjoyed it! And if you did, well, review won't you? ;3**


	6. What Matters

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**-~-**

**Chapter 5: What Matters**

**-~-**

Charlie collapsed on his bed when he returned from Astronomy with Harry; falling asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. Any concerns he had regarding Harry's strange eyes were cast from his mind.

For now.

Harry smirked at his friend's suddenly sleeping form before retreating to the safety of the Slytherin common room. He had stayed in their dorm room long enough to change out of his school uniform; opting to wear black jean pants with tears along the thighs and knees and a dark green hoodie over his otherwise bare chest.

Harry wasn't exactly sure how he had become used to wearing dark clothing so often, but he found that he appreciated the fact that he looked like the creature he was.

Nothing was better hidden than in plain sight, after all.

The vampire skulked toward the bookshelves and quickly skimmed the many titles of text. He was pleasantly surprised to see an old tome on the idea and theory of time travel on one of the highest shelves. Although why he was surprised, he'd never know. He'd always suspected that the Slytherins had more restricted books than the Restricted Section in the library did.

Harry grabbed the book quickly and settled down for a long night of reading.

-~-

Unfortunately for Harry, his search proved fruitless.

He gave up reading when the other students began to stir, disappointment etched into his fine features. He had actually read through the entirety of the giant book – Hermione's idea of 'light reading' having worn off on him – but he had found nothing of use. He was reading the book over; hoping that he might have missed something the first time that he had read it. Unfortunately, his searching was for naught. The book seemed to contain ideas on going back in time and how time-turners and other such paraphernalia worked; but other than actually living out the time one had gained through travel, there was no apparent way to return.

This was very distressing because even though Harry didn't age anymore; living another twenty years just to get back to where he started seemed pointless.

And that was if he was even in the same dimension any more.

No matter what form of time travel was discussed in the many chapters of the book, each emphasized one fundamental rule: _Never be seen._

Well, that was botched, Harry had thought as he read the rule for the umpteenth time. He had been seen, ogled and stared at. Several times.

And then the grandfather paradox came to his attention. If this had never happened in his old time line – which he had every reason to believe was a fact – then he had completely messed everything up because there was no _way_ his father would name him after a Slytherin of all people. So the grandfather paradox said that if he had in fact changed the course of history, than his universe had to either split in two – creating the original timeline and the messed up one, respectively – or implode.

As he was still alive – ish – and well, Harry could safely assume that they hadn't imploded.

Which meant that either Harry was definitely stuck here and probably screwed (as he had to kill Voldemort all over again – he had definitely been dead before Harry had been knocked unconscious), or that no matter how much he changed things _now_, everything would be fine when he got back to – whenever.

Either way, Harry figured he was stuck here for a while, so he might as well enjoy it.

Just as the vampire replaced the rather large text on the dusty bookshelf, a tired-looking Snape staggered down the steps.

Harry, having never seen Snape stagger _once_ in all of his time knowing the man, couldn't miss the opportunity to bring this up.

"What's wrong, Severus?" he asked, an eyebrow rising mockingly.

Snape, to his credit, immediately snapped to wakefulness.

"Just because _you_ eat enough sugar to be able to wake up at ungodly hours does not mean that the rest of the world does," he said scathingly.

Harry grinned toothily at the Slytherin before settling gracelessly into an armchair. "You really shouldn't insult me, you know," he said matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Snape stood in silence for several moments, clearly confused by Harry's proclamation.

The vampire's smile slowly fell from his face before he said incredulously, "The Incredible Hulk?" His mouth gaped open when Snape shrugged.

"Sorry," the boy said, clearly not sorry at all.

"Whatever," Harry said crossly. "It was a lame joke anyways." His face smiled again, but his eyes weren't shining with mirth like they had been before.

Snape noted the change with hidden concern.

"If you don't want to get up," Harry continued as several first-years rushed by, "Then why did you?"

It was Snape's turn to look sceptically at the Slytherin. "Perhaps because I have class this morning."

Harry blinked. Truthfully, he had forgotten that Snape had taken Arithmancy, which was the sixth year class scheduled for that morning.

"Right," he agreed lamely.

"Anyways," Snape said casually as Mulciber and Avery stumbled down the stairs, "I'll see you in Potions."

The three quickly exited the common room, leaving Harry once again to his own devices.

As everyone who had class that morning – which involved a good portion of the sixth and seventh years as well as every student from the first five years – rushed to make it to breakfast before class started, Harry amused himself by seeing how many quills he could wordlessly levitate out of bags before someone realized that every quill in Slytherin House was floating at waist height.

Surprisingly, the one who first took notice was none other than Regulus Black.

And he pointed the fact out rather loudly.

"Why are all these quills floating around my waist?!" he asked blatantly.

Immediately everyone in Slytherin House looked at their waists; snatching angrily at their floating quills, which swerved annoyingly away from their grasping hands.

"It's the Marauders!" exclaimed Rosier ostentatiously as he scrambled through the door to the dungeon corridors. "They've infiltrated our lair!"

The boy earned a few chuckles at that, but Harry scoffed. "The Marauders aren't smart enough to get in here," he said lazily as he waved a hand.

The quills zoomed together and formed a giant feathery face that floated several feet above the floor. It had an eerie resemblance to Professor Slughorn's own pudgy visage. "Hurry to class!" it bellowed, reminding all of the frozen Slytherins that they were running late.

Every student present except Harry and Regulus were immediately hastening for the door, quills forgotten.

"You'll only earn enemies if you keep that up," Regulus admonished as he turned from the feathery face toward the pale Slytherin.

Harry shrugged, completely unconcerned. "I think I can handle myself, thank you."

The fifth year's head cocked to the side. "What are you hoping to achieve?" he asked quietly.

"This House is too serious," Harry said passionately. "Too willing to lose itself to the dark. I don't want that to happen. I'm just new here, I realize," he added quickly when Regulus opened his mouth to protest, "But I can already see how things are going to go.

"You seem intelligent," Harry continued as he stood up to leave. "Figure it out yourself."

Regulus was contemplative as he watched the teen follow his housemates to the Great Hall.

The new sixth year was puzzling, to say the least. He seemed to defend everyone, no matter what House they were from; just as he mocked everyone. He claimed that he cared what happened to the Slytherins, but he wasn't one of them; not really. He hadn't grown up in the House; hadn't lived through abuse and bullying like they had. He hadn't felt what it was like to be hated – to be an outsider. He just came waltzing in and expected everyone to show him respect like he was some Malfoy.

But at the same time, he seemed to actually _care_. He had said that Slytherin House as a whole was too serious, too outcast. But was it really their fault if the rest of the school mistrusted them?

Regulus surprised himself with the answer that his mind produced.

Yes, it was their fault.

They were outcast because of the rift between Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor, but that was a fight that happened too long ago for _anyone_ to remember. The rivalries that existed now were because the students lived up to the house's stereotypes.

It was the students who hurt; it was the students who talked back, the students who maimed others.

It was the students of Slytherin that believed they had no hope.

The Houses were not set in stone. Slythe was a living example of this. In less than three days he had proven that he had the courage of a Gryffindor, the genius of a Ravenclaw, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff.

The drive of a Slytherin.

For the first time in five years, Regulus wondered if he _really_ wanted to join Lord Voldemort in his quest for power.

Sure, the treasure seemed great, but was it worth the pain it would cause and the lives it would cost?

Was it worth his freedom?

Regulus wasn't so sure that it was.

-~-

Harry sat lithely next to Snape in the Great Hall, still clad in his shredded jeans and emerald hoodie.

"It isn't Potions class yet, Slythe," Snape said in a snide tone when the teen settled down beside him.

Harry smirked. "But I knew you'd miss me oh so much if you had to wait until after lunch to see me."

Snape almost smiled – almost – before retorting, "Because the world would end if I didn't see you at least once every two hours."

"Of course," Harry replied with a nod, nibbling on a chocolate-filled croissant.

"So what will you be doing this morning?" Snape inquired, effectively changing the subject.

Harry shrugged, taking a large bite of the croissant.

"Explore the library, probably."

Snape nodded noncommittally before standing abruptly. He quickly crossed the floor to the doors leading out of the Great Hall. It was then that Harry noticed that very few students remained in the Hall; a majority of them rushing to finish their food before going to their morning classes.

Harry, ever the vexation, waved extravagantly at Snape's back, a large grin plastered to his face. "Good bye, Severus!" he vociferated; earning several giggles and even more wary glances than usual that were directed at him.

At the Head Table, blue eyes twinkled merrily behind half-moon spectacles at the vampire's vivacity.

-~-

Harry proved to be true to his word; spending the entire morning in the library, browsing the many shelves packed into the large room. When lunch time finally arrived, Harry wandered down to the Slytherin common room to ready himself for classes and change into his uniform.

Much to his surprise, when the vampire entered the sixth year dorm, Charlie was still asleep in his bed.

Harry sighed and walked over to the boy's bedside, leaned close to his ear, and shouted, "Get up!"

"No," came the disgruntled reply as Charlie buried his face deeper into his pillow.

"We have class in an hour," Harry said calmly.

"Then wake me up in an hour."

"Charlie, get up."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, now."

"No."

Harry's eyebrows rose to his hairline. What was Charlie playing at? Smiling despite himself, the vampire jabbed his friend roughly in the side, earning a yelp of protest.

"Up," he commanded brusquely.

"No."

Harry rolled his eyes, finally giving up. "Fine," he said before he left to quickly change into his school uniform.

"Thank you," the lump of covers that was Charlie Harper said from beside him.

At least he was still polite.

"Of course," Harry said sweetly as he left the room.

A wiser man would have taken note of Harry's sickly sweet tone, but as it was... Charlie stayed burried in his nest of covers - not receiving the only warning of what was to come.

Harry quickly entered the bathroom and turned on a shower stall before returning to Charlie's bedside. He picked up the surprised Slytherin around his middle and threw the teen over his shoulder. He carried the disgruntled teen through the common room and into the washroom.

"Hey, what are you-"

Charlie was cut off as Harry threw him bodily – clothes and all – into the shower stall, the freezing water soaking through his sleepiness instantaneously.

"Harry!" the olive-skinned Slytherin screeched, scrambling out of the stall. "What were you thinking?!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I was thinking that it would be fun to see what would happen if you were thrown into a cold shower."

Charlie: 1; Harry: 3

Finally, a score that Harry approved of.

-~-

He soon found himself walking alongside a very irate Charlie as they headed to Potions class. The teen, who had had a rather rude awakening, was grumbling as he stamped to class. Water droplets fell from the edges of his dripping hair, a fact that seemed to anger the Slytherin even more.

"I am going to kill you for this," Charlie declared as they entered their classroom.

"That would be quite a feat," Harry commented wryly.

Charlie shot him a scathing look as the two parted ways.

Harry quickly sat next to Sirius, who glared coldly at him.

"Now, now," Harry chided as Sirius opened his mouth to speak. "Whatever you're going to say, it probably wouldn't be wise to say it around a teacher who is more than willing to give you detention."

He couldn't help but smirk when Sirius' face fell. The Gryffindor glared angrily at Harry one last time before turning to the front of the class and sulking.

The vampire couldn't help but snort at the display, but otherwise remained silent.

"Now," Professor Slughorn said after sending a brief disapproving look toward the downtrodden Marauder, "You all did a _marvellous_ job on the Draught of Living Death last class-" here he looked pointedly at Harry, "-although some of you seemed to have some problems, unfortunately-" then he glanced quickly at Rosier and Avery before averting his eyes, "-but nonetheless, wonderfully done! Now that I've been able to properly assess your abilities, we're going to be moving on. Now," he said, flicking his wand at the blackboard rather shoddily, "We're going to be learning about dragon blood and its many uses!"

Harry silently grabbed his parchment and quill as Sirius groaned beside him.

Apparently the Marauder did not feel like copying notes for their double period.

-~-

Harry stretched idly as he waited for Charlie to join him in the corridor outside of the potions classroom. Soon enough the boy was beside him once more and the two were walking back to their common room. They didn't make it far, however, before a Marauder was once again blocking their way.

"Hey," the Gryffindor said quietly as he raked a hand through his tousled hair.

Charlie blinked slowly as he looked between Harry and the other boy as they stood in silence for several minutes. He quickly slung his backpack over one shoulder and said nervously, "Well, I can see you two would like to be alone, so I'll see you later." He let out an uneasy smile before edging away from the two.

Finally, Harry broke the staring contest between the two of them. "Hello, Remus," he said softly.

The werewolf nodded slightly, acknowledging Harry's uneasiness since the day before. What could he expect, anyways? The Marauders had all but physically attacked the poor vampire and he had done nothing to stop them. It wouldn't even have mattered if he failed to stop their browbeating – what mattered was that he didn't even _try._

And that's what upset Remus so much. He had tried to stop his friends too little and too late.

"I thought I'd apologize," Remus said quietly, breaking eye contact with Harry. He seemed abruptly fascinated with his shoes.

"Indeed," Harry said wryly as he covered the distance between the two, forcing Remus to look at him. Harry held out his arm casually as he said, "Why don't you accompany me to the library?"

Remus smiled sweetly as he accepted the proffered arm. He could only imagine what it must cost the vampire to willingly touch a werewolf – especially as the full moon was in less than a day.

The two walked companionably to the library, ignoring the surprised glances that followed them with great dignity.

-~-

"You know," Harry said as he casually flipped through the pages of his astronomy text book – he didn't want a repeat of the escapade the previous night. He had enough to worry about now that Charlie had seen his eyes in the darkness. He didn't need anyone else getting suspicions about his racial status. In Harry's time – whenever that was – his condition (for lack of a better word) was of no concern. He was the Boy-Who-Lived; he was the world's last hope against Lord Voldemort.

He singlehandedly destroyed the prejudice that wizards held for magical creatures.

Politically, anyways.

Because of Harry, werewolves, vampires, and many other creatures (all of which were not classified as 'beasts') were able to hold jobs; have homes and families; even be prominent members in the wizarding community.

Hell, in his time, the Minister of Magic – Kingsley Shacklebolt – had been a werewolf. He wasn't one when he was elected, of course. He had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback within three months of being elected, but by then the bigotry had mostly dissipated. Kingsley himself had held a re-election, only to be voted back in almost immediately.

All musings aside, Harry wasn't sure what would happen if the wizarding community got wind of what he was. He planned on changing things, though.

He would start with prejudice against the students of Slytherin house.

"Yes?" Remus prompted when Harry had sat staring at his book for several minutes with a misty look on his face.

"I'm sorry?" Harry said as he looked up suddenly at the werewolf who was seated beside him.

"You never finished your sentence," Remus said kindly, humour evident in his voice.

"I didn't?" the vampire asked lamely.

Remus smiled amiably in response to the teen's question.

"Oh, well," Harry said, trying to remember where he was going with his sentence before he got lost in thought. "I forget," he finally concluded. "It must not have been very important."

The werewolf chuckled before returning to the book before him.

"I forgive you," Harry said almost inaudibly some minutes later.

Remus cocked his head to the side as he looked at the vampire. Harry's eyes were invisible under his feathery hair, but Remus could tell that he wasn't looking back at him. That didn't bother him, though. He had been afraid that Harry would be mad at him for staying on the side lines as the Marauders attacked him. He had been ridden with guilt because of how utterly _distraught_ Harry had seemed the day before as he spoke of what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had done to him. But none of that mattered; not anymore.

What mattered was that Harry had forgiven him.

What mattered was that he could finally forgive himself.

* * *

**_Vicki:_ "It must not have been very important." ...I felt stupid writing this part because I do that too...**

**_Dray:_ lmfao, everyone does. Which is why it's awesome that you included it - makes Harry seem human.**

**_Vicki:_ Which is funny because he isn't.**

**_Dray:_ Exactly ;D**

* * *

**Vicki's note: Okay, so first, everyone wish a very merry day of birth (Happy Birthday to the squares out there) to Dray. Today, January 18th, is her seventeenth birthday. So let's give her lots of presents in the form of reviews, okay? On another note, this chapter is a bit shorter than the last, but that's only to be expected. Now, some of you may be wondering why Harry's suddenly friends with everyone. The answer is simple: he's not giving anyone a choice. He's literally throwing himself at them and not letting them ignore him. And that's the end of my rambling. See you next chapter ;)**

**Author's Note: Wow, there's an inventive way to get more reviews ;3 Thank you Vicks!! And it would actually be _really _awesome if you could tell us what you think of this chapter... ;)**

**_Review_**


	7. Duet or Trio?

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter series or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for play, we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**-~-**

**Chapter 6: Duet… or Trio?**

**-~-**

Harry stretched idly as he walked to the Great Hall, Remus at his side. He rubbed a green eye absently, bringing Remus' attention to the bruises under his eyes. They seemed darker than usual – almost black instead of the purplish-gray that was characteristic of vampires. The werewolf looked at Harry with worried eyes, noting with concern that the teen looked more tired than was healthy – even for a vampire.

Which didn't make sense, because the Slytherin's scent was strong – which could only mean that he had fed recently. Something was wrong, then. That was the only explanation Remus could come up with. It was more than likely that something was stressing the vampire; causing his obvious strain.

But was it Remus' werewolf that was affecting Harry this much, or was it something else?

"Remus?"

Remus blinked, only just realizing that he and Harry had stopped walking. He glanced at the door to the Great Hall, hesitant to leave the Slytherin's presence. He cocked his head to the side, stalling for time.

"Harry?" he mimicked.

Harry smiled sweetly, and the werewolf felt his breath hitching. The vampire really was breathtaking; with scintillating green eyes framed by thick lashes, feathery black hair that was messier and yet somehow neater than James', and a pout to his lips that many people would kill for.

"Still with us?" Harry joked. He titled his head to the side; silky black hair falling into his eyes.

"Y-yeah, sorry," Remus shook himself, running his hand through his hair nervously. Merlin, what was getting into him lately? He hadn't been at school for even a week – hadn't known Harry for a week – and yet he was already attached to the striking vampire.

It was baffling.

The Slytherin's smile faltered, eventually sliding completely off of his face. He was clearly confused by Remus' unsettling stare. Why was the werewolf looking at him so fiercely?

"Anyways," Harry said, obviously uncomfortable. Why was Remus still staring at him? "I'll see you later, right?"

Remus blinked. What? "Yeah – yes, of course." He smiled at the vampire before he hastily entered the Great Hall, leaving Harry alone in the Entrance Hall.

The werewolf quickly crossed the floor, sitting down heavily beside his friends at the Gryffindor table.

"Moony," Sirius said happily, "We were wondering if you were going to show up at all." He grinned broadly at his friend, slinging an arm over the werewolf's shoulders.

Remus winced, his body protesting painfully at the contact.

"Sirius," Peter warned around a mouthful of food, "You're hurting him."

"What?" the dog animagus said stupidly.

"Get your arm off of Remus, Padfoot," James said; amusement evident in his eyes.

"Oops," Sirius said sheepishly, removing his arm from his friend's shoulders. He turned to Remus, a frown on his face. "When-"

"Tomorrow night," the werewolf said irritably. "So please stop touching me," he whispered menacingly.

Sirius held his hands up in defeat, trying to placate the angry werewolf.

Remus huffed, pushing his food distractedly around his plate.

-~-

Harry stood in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts for many minutes; contemplating dinner.

Did he really want to eat? Did he _need_ to?

"Are you going to go in or are you just going to stand there all day?"

Harry turned, startled, to see who had spoken. His eyes widened when he saw that it was a Hufflepuff girl. Since when did Hufflepuffs have _anything_ to do with Slytherins? They usually avoided the dungeon dwellers – when they weren't outright running from them, that is.

But it wasn't just the girl's uncharacteristic bravery that held his eyes. She was absolutely _stunning_. Her school robes clung flatteringly to her thin frame; and her hair was a deep brown, framing her pale face in waves. Her features were slightly angled, making her appear feline; although the effect was very subtle. She had full, pink lips and a straight nose. But the most startling aspect the girl possessed was her eyes. Outlined by long, dark lashes, her eyes were an icy blue. He could almost compare them to Sirius' eyes, but there was an ethereal quality to them that made them stand out – it was almost as if they glowed.

The Hufflepuff sighed, clearly put out by the vampire. She rolled her eyes before pushing past Harry, not in the least bit sorry at hitting him squarely with the large door to the Great Hall. Harry could do nothing but blink in the direction of the Hufflepuff, completely stunned.

That was absolutely the most un-Hufflepuff-like person he had ever met. _Ever_.

Well, maybe with the exception of Voldemort.

An almost imperceptive snicker brought Harry back to his wits. He turned to glare menacingly at the two teenagers who were stupid enough to _laugh_ at him. Unfortunately, the two Slytherin fifth years didn't seem fazed by Harry's antics. Rather, they seemed to be even more amused at the teen's display.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the two teenage girls; trying to match their faces to names. They seemed so familiar – beside the fact that they were completely identical – but they brushed past him before he could really get a good look at them. He furrowed his brow at the two as the door closed in his face once more. Harry sighed quietly to himself and pushed into the Great Hall, his posture slightly defeated. It seemed that the world was trying to tell him that _yes_, he did need to eat.

Or, at the very least, the students were.

Harry shuffled over to the Slytherin table, sitting gracefully between Charlie and Snape once more.

"Welcome back to the land of the eternally damned," Charlie said dryly, noting Harry's pallor with masked concern.

The vampire smiled wanly in response, grabbing a slice of chocolate cake. He sat quietly for several minutes as he picked at his food; musing over his friend's sarcastic greeting. Eternally damned... if only he knew.

"You missed dinner," Snape pointed out. He quirked an eyebrow precariously at his roommate.

"I noticed," Harry replied sardonically. He took a forkful of the fluffy chocolate dessert, eyeing the food critically before placing it delicately in his mouth. He closed his eyes in pleasure, enjoying the sweet taste of chocolate and sugar on his tongue.

"He doesn't seem to care," Charlie commented dryly, as if Harry was no longer present.

Snape looked shocked – if only for an instant – that Charlie was actually talking to him. Harry sat back, quirking an eyebrow and observing the two silently.

Something had to have happened between them; why else would Snape be so surprised that Charlie would speak to him? Or perhaps it had something to do with Snape's choice in... friends.

"He's probably too busy disgracing us to care," Mulciber commented icily as he stood from the table. He turned a baleful eye on Harry. "I'm ashamed to call you my housemate." The future Death Eater left the Great Hall, followed by the rest of Snape's old gang.

Harry snorted before taking another bite of chocolate cake. The three Slytherins were silent for several minutes as Harry chewed, until finally the vampire spoke.

"I'm going to the library," he said easily, "I'll see you later." He rose gracefully from his place at the table before gliding out of the Great Hall.

Snape looked curiously at Charlie. "He sure spends a lot of time in the library, doesn't he?"

"Tell me about it," Charlie agreed. "He hasn't even been here for a week and already he's had to have read at least half of the books."

Snape sent a bemused look to the other Slytherin.

"He's barmy," Charlie concluded as he too rose from the table.

-~-

Harry spent the night in the library, browsing carefully through the Restricted Section.

Yet no matter how much he looked, he couldn't find anything on time travel.

The vampire growled in frustration. He just couldn't _win_, it seemed. He needed to get back; needed to reassure-

Reassure who?

Harry paused as he reached for a book. His arm hung uselessly in midair as the vampire stared in disbelief at the shelf in front of him.

Who would he go back to?

Ron and Hermione had died years ago; had sacrificed themselves when Voldemort himself had ambushed them. They were hunting Horcruxes then. It wasn't an easy task at all. He wasn't sure why Dumbledore had left such a burden for three teenagers to carry; why he had believed that they were more suited for the job than the adults. Nonetheless, the three teenagers had accepted the burden; willing to carry out whatever jobs their mentor had left for them after his death. Their hunt had been long and challenging; and they had very few leads. They had heard rumours that one of his Horcruxes – Helga Hufflepuff's cup, to be exact – was in the vault of one Bellatrix Lestrange. So they had gone to claim the cup for themselves. It wasn't difficult, of course. Harry was the Black heir, and since Bellatrix was a convict, he could take claim of the vault.

The rumours had been right, fortunately, and Harry and his friends had soon found the Cup in their grasp.

Except that Voldemort was waiting for them outside.

The Dark Lord had had his sight set on Harry, but his two best friends would have none of that. They quickly shoved him behind their bodies; blocking him from the Lord's view – in the process shielding Harry and giving him enough time to apparate, but not before he witnessed his friends falling to the ground with strangled cries of pain. Voldemort hadn't spared them a second glance.

And in the span of two seconds, Harry was alone.

He had Voldemort's Horcrux, but was it worth the cost?

Harry swallowed thickly, allowing his hand to drop heavily to his side.

After Ron and Hermione had died; Harry had had only Remus left. And the werewolf had died in the final battle, anyways.

Harry blinked when he felt warm liquid slide down his cheek, when he smelled the salty copper that was his blood. He brought a hand to his face, wiping the bloody tears from his cool skin.

Harry was alone; and he hadn't realized it until now. There was Snape, of course, but Harry wasn't sure if the man was still alive or not. Either way, it seemed Harry was stuck here; in this time.

And suddenly, that wasn't such a bad thing.

In 1976, Harry's parents were alive, Remus and Sirius were alive, Snape was not a Death Eater – and if Harry had his way, he never would be – and he could start over.

But that also meant that Voldemort was still alive.

Harry sighed, sliding gracelessly to the floor. He hugged his knees against his chest, resting his head gingerly on his forearms.

On the bright side, Harry knew where the Horcruxes were this time – unless Voldemort had moved them. Knowing the Dark Lord, he probably hadn't. The man was probably secure in the knowledge that no one was aware that he had Horcruxes to keep him immortal.

But that didn't matter; not really. Harry was given a second chance, and he would take it. Things would turn out better this time. He would make sure of that.

Harry's body stiffened; his resolve hardening.

He would make a difference in this world. He would change lives; he would save lives. But he would need influence if he was going to get people to trust him enough to rise against Voldemort.

His plans would take some work; but somehow he would turn the world against the Dark Lord.

He would make lives better, he would be a perfect student, and he would be the man that everyone turned to for help. He would gladly accept that burden, if only to defeat Voldemort before history repeated itself.

Harry wouldn't let his parents die; he wouldn't let his family disappear again. He wouldn't let Snape join the dark, and he wouldn't let the Marauders be torn apart because of their false sense of nobility.

A bitter laugh escaped Harry's lips as he thought of the troubles he was taking upon himself. Damn him and his hero complex.

But none of that mattered, because either way he was going to win.

Harry rose steadily to his feet; running gracefully out of the library and toward the dungeons. He ignored Madam Pince's startled yelp as he bolted through the door, intent on his goal.

He had plans. He was going to be popular; if only to ensure that people would trust him enough to let him save them.

Harry entered the common room, gliding to the bulletin board. He quickly scanned the contents before grabbing a paper unmercifully. He read the paper completely before smiling to himself.

Tryouts for the Slytherin Quidditch team were next Friday.

-~-

Harry sat next to Charlie in the Great Hall, clad in his Hogwarts Uniform. The Slytherin glared at him rather groggily, probably angry at the vampire's general wakefulness.

"I hate morning people," the boy declared grumpily as he pushed a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Harry hummed quietly in response before filling his bowl with sliced strawberries and cream. He poured a rather large helping of sugar into his bowl before using a spoon to gather his breakfast.

"I hate what you eat," Charlie continued as he eyed Harry's breakfast with disdain.

"That's not fair," Harry defended after he downed the contents of his spoon. "You've never tried it before." He spooned up another cream-covered strawberry, presenting it to the Slytherin at his side. The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust, turning away from the offered food rudely.

"You could have said 'no thank you'," Harry huffed, glaring balefully at his spoon.

"I'll try it," Snape sighed, sitting down beside the vampire. His face was complete martyrdom as he looked at the contents of Harry's bowl.

The vampire perked up, hastily offering his spoon to Snape. With one last wary glance at the spoon, the teenager grasped it in his long fingers, placing the silver utensil in his mouth. Harry stared eagerly at Snape as the teen slid the spoon out of his mouth, a pensive expression on his face. Both Harry and Charlie watched with bated breath as the Slytherin chewed his food. Slowly, Snape set Harry's spoon on the table, swallowing the food delicately.

"Well?" Charlie prompted, eager to know what someone _sane_ would think of Harry's eating habits.

Snape sat in silence for several minutes, choosing his words carefully. "It wasn't..." he paused, seemingly lost for words. "...awful," he concluded lamely, his head tilting to the side. Straight black hair fell over his eyes, casting a shadow over his face.

Harry, seeing this as confirmation that Snape actually liked his food, grinned broadly at the boy next to him. "See?" he mocked, turning to Charlie, "My food is good." He rose abruptly from the table. "But now we have class to attend to." He quickly pulled Snape out of the Great Hall, dragging the stunned Slytherin to Transfiguration.

Charlie pursed his lips, considering his actions carefully. Sighing softly to himself, he picked up his spoon. He looked around; making sure no one was watching him before he plunged his utensil into Harry's bowl. He picked up a strawberry slice, eyeing it distrustfully before plopping it into his mouth. He chewed delicately for several minutes, enjoying the taste of strawberry and cream and sugar. Really, Charlie found himself admitting, it was delicious.

Damn Harry and his strange tastes.

-~-

Remus watched with amusement as Harry dragged a bewildered Snape into their Transfiguration class. The vampire seemed undeterred by his housemate's protests as he towed him toward their desks. Remus fought the smile that wanted to form on his face, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Beside him, Sirius snarled hatefully at the Slytherins' display.

"Gits," he said angrily as he glared at the two. "They're ruining a perfectly good class."

"What is this world coming to?" James contributed guiltlessly.

Peter, thankfully, remained silent, but he seemed to be in agreement with the declarations of the two Gryffindors. Remus suppressed a sigh at the Marauders' antics. Why couldn't they just accept that Slytherins were people, too – people who didn't deserve to be bullied just because of the House they were sorted into?

Remus didn't bother fighting the amused quirk to his lips as he watched Harper stumble into the room seconds before Professor McGonagall began class.

-~-

Harry drummed his fingers distractedly against the side of a ceramic pot. The Devil's Snare sprout in the pot seemed to grumble at him as he continued his tapping. He had finished potting the plant several minutes ago, but his Herbology class didn't end for about another thirty minutes. He stared dubiously at Charlie as he wrestled despondently with his own sprout. Currently, the plant had wrapped a thin tendril around the boy's neck. He clawed angrily at the plant's vine, yelping in surprise when a second tendril grabbed his wrist. Harry snorted in amusement when the distraught Slytherin fell backwards, sending the Devil's Snare flying. Despite his amusement, the vampire decided that killing such a valuable plant would probably be a bad idea, so he quickly came to the rescue of the small plant. He caught it delicately, running a cool finger delicately down one of the plant's vines. It calmed immediately, recognizing Harry as a friend.

"How-how did you do that?" A bewildered Charlie asked. He stood up shakily, brushing the dirt and mud from his school robes.

Harry stared sidelong at his friend as he placed the sprout in its pot, covering its small roots with dirt. "Maybe if you didn't pull at it," he said condescendingly, "It wouldn't attack."

Charlie pursed his lips, but otherwise remained silent. If Harry was going to pot his plants for him, he wasn't one to complain. Harry hummed quietly before returning to his pot, drumming his fingers against the side again. The class still was nowhere near its end, and Charlie was no longer an entertainment.

How boring.

-~-

Harry followed a grinning Charlie as they left the Great Hall to go to their last class, Care of Magical Creatures. Although Harry wasn't too keen on the class, he knew that his friend was a huge magical creature enthusiast – and that was a bit of an understatement. So while he wasn't quite interested in learning about the world's beasts for a second time, he decided to take one for the team, so to speak.

Too bad this class was entirely too monotonous.

-~-

Harry was lounging on a couch in the Slytherin common room, clad in only a pair of ripped black denim jeans and a black long-sleeved cotton shirt, when two Slytherin girls situated themselves in the couch across from him. He cast a glance at them, freezing when he noted that they were the twins from the night before.

The two were still wearing their Slytherin uniforms, which hung from their thin frames favourably. They had dark brown hair that hung in silky waves around their heart-shaped faces. Each girl had angled features, which gave a slightly feline appearance to their faces, one that Harry found slightly familiar. They both had almond shaped eyes framed by thick lashes; their irises were a startling golden colour – somewhere between honey and amber. The two had straight noses and full lips to finish off their perfect beauty. The twins were startlingly pale – their pallor almost matching Harry's – although it added to their beauty instead of detracting as such a skin tone would for most people. The two had identical smirks crossing their features as they watched Harry with hidden interest. Even their scents were the same – lilacs and rain. The only difference he could see between the twins was that one seemed to be incredibly amused, and the other appeared to be distressingly bored.

Harry found himself examining the two closer. There was something familiar about them – something he just couldn't place, no matter how much he thought about it.

"Hey," he said quietly as he looked at the two. He was able to recognize them as two fifth years who had been sitting on either side of Regulus in the photo Slughorn had shown him in 1996.

"Hello," the enthusiastic twin said. She smiled happily at Harry.

"It's nice to meet you," the other twin said in a monotone voice. She rested her chin in her hand, clearly bored with the situation.

"We're Marissa and Victoria Prince," the first twin said, introducing the two of them.

Harry took notice of the fact that she didn't indicate which twin was which. But the name... He knew he had heard it somewhere; and then there was the fact that they reminded him of someone. He just couldn't place it; and it was driving him insane. Harry racked his brain, trying to remember any information he possibly could about the two girls.

Despite the fact that he knew their names; he knew nothing about them. That bothered him more than he cared to admit – he felt as if he _should_ know them, but somehow he couldn't remember anything about the two.

"I'm sorry," he confessed, "I just don't recall..." He paused, his eyes widening a miniscule amount. He had almost given himself away – although whether the two Slytherins would jump to the proper conclusion or not, he was unsure.

"Who we are?" the bored one supplied helpfully.

Harry nodded, feeling a little more than bewildered.

"We never expected you to," the energetic one said happily as a grin plastered itself to her face.

"We died in our seventh year, after all," the other twin agreed.

Green eyes widened further. They died in their seventh year? But they were fifth years, weren't they? Harry rubbed his eyes wearily. Merlin, these twins confused him.

"Alright," he said quietly, playing along. If they were going to confuse them, he would milk him for all the information he could. "So your last name is Prince... any relation so Severus?" He had a feeling that they were somehow related – Snape's mother was a Prince, wasn't she?

"How astute of you," the twin on the left commented dryly. She raised an eyebrow precariously at Harry, her chin still resting lazily in her palm.

"We're second cousins," the girl on the right affirmed. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the smile never leaving her face.

"Not that he thinks of us as family," the one on the left said.

Harry was downright confused as he listened to the two girls. Which one was Marissa, again?

Despite his obvious befuddlement, Harry pressed on, eager to learn about the confusing twins. "So you two are related to Severus-" he paused mid-sentence, a thought occurring to him. He _had_ seen these two before – although, it hadn't been them, exactly, but a family member. "What about that Hufflepuff girl?" he inquired, being none too subtle about his subject change. "She looks an awful lot like you two."

"Of course she does," one began.

"She's our third," the second concluded.

Harry blinked. There were more of them? These two alone were confusing enough. But the Hufflepuff's eyes...

The vampire decided he would have to think on that problem at a later time. He blinked stupidly at the two, realizing that he hadn't spoken in some time.

"Third?" he said lamely, unable to think of anything else to say.

The twin – no, triplet – on the left smiled wryly. "Finding it difficult to keep up, pretty boy?" she mocked.

Harry ignored her comment, continuing on. "Okay, so you're triplets then," he said, trying to ignore his earlier blunder. "You two both ended up in Slytherin-" he glowered at their identically raised eyebrows, "-is your triplet completely different?"

"No, she's-"

"-Exactly like us-"

"-In fact, it's a little-"

"-Strange-"

"-Living without-"

"-Her for so long."

Harry blinked. These girls reminded him a lot like the Weasley twins, and suddenly, he wasn't so sure if that was a good thing.

"Okay," Harry pressed, determined to finish the conversation before he lost his sanity, "Then why is she in Hufflepuff?"

The two shared an exasperated look before glancing back at the bewildered vampire.

"She's in denial," they said in unison, their voices in perfect harmony.

-~-

The world was pain. It was stretching and contracting and mutating and breaking and mending and tearing and it was all absolute _agony_. But none of that mattered anymore; because he was free. For this one night; he was finally freed from that wretched dark cell.

He gathered his muscles; preparing to spring. He lunged, moving as quickly as he could through the forest.

The pain only spurred him on.

Distantly, he was aware of the three creatures following him – a stag, a dog, and a rat. He didn't like the rat. It stank of dirt and of blood.

It reminded him of his cage.

But he liked the other two creatures. They played with him; kept him entertained. When they weren't annoying him, anyways. But that didn't matter. _They_ liked the rat; and they got to decide whether or not the filthy vermin could stay or not.

But he wasn't going to let something so trivial disrupt his joy.

His muscles moved powerfully under his skin and fur; making him the perfect killing machine. He could do whatever he wanted this night, and so the pain was well worth it.

He stopped abruptly, sitting back on his haunches. He turned his head skyward, his sensitive nose taking in every smell in the area, cataloguing and categorizing each individual scent as he stared into the pure silver orb overhead.

He let out an exhilarated howl.

* * *

**Vicki's Note: Okay, another chapter up. Sorry that it took so long, really, but I got lost on the path of life. On another note, we put up a short prequel to this story, called From Childhood's Hour. It is basically the battle before Harry was sent back in time, and it expands on Harry's character a little bit, as well as explaining some unanswered questions. We'd appreciate it if you went and read it and left us a nice review. ;)**

**Author's Note: Yep, so check it out! And also... Today's Vicki's birthday!!! So, as we got this chapter out, would you wish her a Happy Birthday, and leave us plenty of reviews? ;3**


	8. Prince of Purple

**Disclaimer: We do not own any of the Harry Potter series, nor any recognizable referrences. We are just borrowing them for play; we're not making any money off of this.**

* * *

**Note:** I feel that this is something important that you should know. In this universe, there is no strictly-speaking straight or gay. Each individual is born without preferences, and those develop as they grow, of course - but let's say one man was attracted to another, or a woman to a woman. This does not make them gay in either case; it just means that they are attracted to beauty (as most people are). Whether they choose to act upon such an attraction is entirely up to them, and as everyone experiences such a thing, it is not frowned upon in the least. So we could, theoretically, have a gay man willing to date a straight woman, because he finds her attractive (and although his _preferences_ are for men, that does not stop him from seeing beauty for what it is, and for wishing to be with this person). Beauty is also, of course, entirely subjective. There are generalities which everyone would find beautiful - symmetrical features, for example - but human kind finds beauty in imperfection also; and it all depends on how you yourself recognize such a thing.

* * *

**A Waking Dream of Life and Light**

**Chapter 7: Prince of Purple**

**-~-**

Harry stood in silence in the owlery, gazing pensively down at the Forbidden Forest below. The late hour had not disrupted the activity that he could feel from that place – if anything, the Forest seemed more awake than it was during the day - and it called to him. His fingers twitched longingly as they rested on the stone sill of the window. Oh, how he wanted to join the creatures in that forest; to feel the grass and soil beneath his feet, to take in the pure scents that had been completely obliterated by the muggles, to be freed from those constraints he wore to protect his identity from a discriminative world. Harry glared at the Forest before him; taunting him in its natural oblivion. His fingers drummed against the stone in agitation – anything to stop that incessant twitching – and a frown distorted his features. As much as he wished to, he couldn't join his world tonight. He couldn't run carefree through the trees, among the only beings that didn't _care_ that he was a monster.

The vampire turned his face away from the Forest, instead looking up balefully at the full moon; just in time for a triumphant howl to resound through the silence of the night.

No; he couldn't go out tonight. Not with Remus out there. And that was the crux of the problem, really; werewolves weren't the only beings that gained power on the full moon nights. He had power beyond his imagination when the moon was full – perhaps as a defence mechanism against werewolves, perhaps because the moon lent its power to all dark creatures. But either way, he would not tempt fate by wandering about.

Harry stopped drumming his fingers against the stone, instead running a hand down his weary face. No matter how much he wanted to go, he couldn't; although that hadn't stopped him from wandering about, had it? The moment the two Slytherin triplets had retired from his presence, Harry had left the Slytherin common room, skulking in the shadows past prefects and teachers until he had found himself in the owlery, staring longingly at the Forbidden Forest until the sky was painted red with dawn.

An owl hooted impatiently at his presence, and Harry turned to glare at the bird. His upper lip curled in disdain; his own defence mechanism against the pain he felt when he was reminded of Hedwig. Why had he come to the owlery, anyways? The room smelled of dirt and animals; not completely unpleasant but not a smell that was welcomed in such an enclosed space – not when he so longed to be outside. The owlery was taunting him. Harry carded a hand through his windblown hair as his emerald eyes observed the room. A frown marred his features before he cast one last glance out the window, his eyes staring longingly at the Forbidden Forest. Resolutely he left the owlery, making his way back down to his common room.

-~-

Charlie was walking lazily beside Harry, with his hands behind his head as he glanced at the newest addition to Slytherin from the corner of his eye. His friend looked beyond tired – as if he hadn't slept in ages – and his usually straight back was hunched. What was once a confident gait was now a weary shuffle, and his tendons stood out on his clenched fists. Something wasn't right with Harry; something was different.

_No, not different,_ Charlie thought, _unveiled._

And that was exactly what it was; the Slytherin was positive. The green-eyed teenager had an air about him that wasn't there before; something that told Charlie that the boy had suffered a lot in his life; that he had been hiding behind masks for a long time. Harry probably didn't even realize that his current mask had slipped.

Charlie just wondered what could have happened that caused the Slytherin to lose his footing.

The olive-skinned Slytherin stumbled slightly when he noticed Harry staring back at him, the mask back in place as if it had never been lost. If Charlie hadn't been staring directly at him, he would have thought that he had imagined the whole thing. Even then he still would have thought he was hallucinating if he hadn't noticed that Harry's eyes didn't hold as much life in them as they should have.

"Come on," Harry said happily, grabbing Charlie's arm and dragging him to their double Defence period.

Charlie narrowed his eyes at the back of the Slytherin's head, but acquiesced.

-~-

The day passed quickly, and soon Charms - the last class of the week - was over. Harry walked dutifully beside Charlie as they returned to their common room, a mischievous grin plastered to his face. The dark-eyed Slytherin cast a wary gaze on his friend, his lips pursing as he contemplated the source of Harry's amusement.

Finally, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he blurted, "What?"

Harry's smile faltered for a second, his eyes wandering over his friend before returning to the space in front of the two. "What what?" he questioned artfully.

Charlie suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, barely. "I've seen that look before," he said in a slow voice, as if explaining to a particularly unintelligent Hufflepuff. "You haven't even been here for a week and you've got first years cowering before that look."

"What look?" Harry asked innocently, his ethereal eyes widening in mock surprise.

"Don't play this game," the Slytherin challenged.

Harry's face fell, his eyes gazing at the floor he walked on as his brow crinkled in defeat. His pace slowed, and soon he fell several steps behind Charlie. "You're right," he confessed sadly, "I'm not very good at this. I should just give up."

"I—what?"

Several minutes passed, but Charlie received no answer. Confused by the sudden silence, the Slytherin turned around, only to discover that his friend had disappeared. Completely baffled, the boy stopped walking, instead turning his head in every direction, straining to hear any hint of his friend.

"Harry?" he called weakly, his brow furrowing in his confusion. Still, no answer came, so the Slytherin pursed his lips thoughtfully and continued the trek to his common room, still searching for his missing friend as he went. He reached the entrance to the Slytherin common coom, and hesitated. He just _knew_ that his friend's look had been foreshadowing unknown horrors within the common room. _Harry Slythe_ had become a name almost as feared as the _Marauders_ were, and the teenager had only been present for five days, whereas the Gryffindor quartet had been stalking the halls for over five years.

_But Harry's never hurt anyone,_ he reminded himself briskly, _And our House already has a sense of hope that it's never had before._

Charlie had never been particularly fond of You-Know-Who, especially after his mother was wounded in a Death Eater raid. Besides, his father was a light wizard, and as such, had no intentions of _ever_ letting his only child anywhere near that madman. The thought made Charlie snort. His father was so dense sometimes, and hardly seemed to realize that his precious son lived amongst the children of Death Eaters (and future Death Eaters themselves) for a good portion of the year. He wondered what the man would have said if he knew... Although Charlie sometimes wondered why the thought never crossed his father's mind. As it was, the man was intent on staying neutral in the war.

With a start, the Slytherin realized he had been standing in the middle of the corridor, staring at a particularly uninteresting piece of wall, for some time now. He looked around again, unsure as to why he hadn't yet been attacked by Harry – because surely that was why the boy had disappeared, right? Steeling himself, Charlie closed his eyes and uttered the password to get into his Common Room, stepping over the threshold and slowly opening his eyes to what lay before him, his jaw dropping as he looked.

It was utter pandemonium. Students were cowering in corners, shielding themselves from the chaos around them. Everywhere he looked, there were bright – _purple! –_ streamers hanging from the ceiling, all in perfect condition, even in places where the leaking roof must have gotten at them. His housemates were staring in horror at the ceiling, and anyone who tried to remove a streamer from the stone, whether by magic or by hand, became tangled up in it himself. In one corner he saw a cluster of first years tied together, the flimsy streamer somehow resistant to all of their attacks on it. Some students had been stuck to walls by the papers, others had bands of purple tied around their faces – never blocking airways, Charlie noted with relief. He wasn't sure how he'd explain to the professors how he'd not only managed to lose the new prankster in residence, but to allow him to suffocate a bunch of twelve-year-olds. The older students all seemed to be completely wrapped up in the streamers, appearing like purple mummies. He found himself unable to recognize any of them, despite their muffled protests.

And in the center of the room, Charlie noted with utter bafflement, was Harry.

He was perched on a pile of chairs; three stacked one on top of the other. He lounged gracefully atop his makeshift throne, a dazzling purple crown resting crookedly on his head. He held an equally purple sceptre, which Charlie surmised must have been his wand, although he was unsure how the teen had been able to transfigure it.

_Who am I kidding?_ He asked himself sardonically, _this is _Harry_ we're talking about._

And there was that damned smirk, plastered once more on his face as he turned to gaze at each of the dumbstruck Slytherins. His grin widened when his gaze fell upon Charlie.

"Charlie," he said cheerily, "I was wondering what took you so long."

"I am _never_," he said, once he found his voice again,"_ever_ going to trust that damned smirk again."

Harry seemed quite pleased.

-~-

Remus inhaled deeply, taking in the sterile scent of Hogwarts' Hospital Wing. He wondered briefly how he had gotten there, until he recalled the full moon from the night before. He let a sigh escape through clenched teeth as his pain flooded back to him. It was always so much worse after the full moon.

"Oi, James!" a voice called excitedly from beside him, "I think Moony's awake!"

Remus resisted the urge to scowl. He didn't want company right now, even if it _was_ his friends. He just wanted to rest.

He heard footsteps rushing over to him, and new that he would have no such luck today. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking the blurriness of sleep away as he attempted to sit up. A resounding _pop_ echoed through the room as his joints moved back where they should be. Remus winced at the sound, reminded once more of the throbbing pain in his bones.

"Hey," he croaked when James sat down. He looked well, and Remus surmised that his wolf hadn't done any harm the night before.

"Moony," James said in relief, although Remus had no idea why he should be relieved, "I'm glad you're alright." His brown eyes shone brightly, and Remus was sure that they were full of unshed tears.

The werewolf shrugged, then winced as another joint cracked loudly. "Same as always, I suppose." He wasn't sure if it was a lie or not. He didn't feel the same as he usually did, not really. He certainly hurt as much as he usually did, but he found the pain more... _tolerable._

Sirius pursed his lips as James frowned, neither knowing quite what to say.

"Are you sure?" Peter piped up, and Remus turned his head to face him, his neck cracking audibly as he did so. Peter winced.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Remus nearly growled, and then started when he realized that he was almost _growling_ at one of his best friends.

Peter fidgeted, wringing his hands nervously as he gazed at his friend. Remus found that the habit irritated him profoundly. It made Peter seem more like the rat he was.

Remus blinked, his brow furrowing once more. Where had that thought come from?

"-Moony?"

Remus looked guiltily to Sirius, not realizing his friend had been talking as he stared Peter down. He chewed on his bottom lip, shame flooding him.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't listening," he confessed sombrely.

The three Gryffindors frowned at him, unwilling to say what they clearly felt they needed to say.

"Remus-" James began, before Madam Pomfrey rushed over, shooing the Marauders away.

"Off you go now, boys. I know you're all very excited to see him but he must be utterly exhausted, and I won't have you ruining his recovery."

The three sent rebellious looks at the school matron, but left nonetheless, leaving Remus to Madam Pomfrey's machinations.

"How are you feeling, Remus dear?" she asked, waving her wand over his body in several practiced movements.

"I'm alright," he rasped, wincing slightly at the sound of his voice.

Madam Pomfrey tutted, handing Remus several potions. "Now take these, dear, you'll feel better."

Furrowing his brow in confusion, the werewolf downed the potions, the aches leaving his body almost instantaneously.

"Did something happen?" he asked with concern, although he knew the answer. Madam Pomfrey never shooed away his friends unless they were either being particularly boisterous, or something had happened.

"Do you know what day it is, dear?" she volleyed back, ignoring his question completely.

"Er, Friday?" he guessed with a shrug. Another joint cracked audibly.

"You are incorrect, Mr. Lupin," the matron said, her voice becoming serious. "It is, in fact, Saturday evening."

"Saturday..." Remus trailed off, his eyes going wide. He'd been asleep for almost two days? But – what? How? He felt his face pulling into a frown as he contemplated the reason behind his current condition.

Madam Pomfrey nodded; concern evident in her face. "That's right, dear. Oddly enough, you're perfectly healthy now that you're awake." Her lips pursed as she considered this. "So I suppose you can go join your friends, but I expect you'll feel the usual after-effects of your transformation."

Remus could only nod, baffled, as he stood from the bed. He raked a hand through his hair once, a final, quiet crack coming from his shoulder, before he limped out of the Hospital Wing.

-~-

"It's all over the school," Lily explained to Remus, a smile gracing her features. She looked around the Gryffindor common room conspiratorially, before leaning in to whisper, "He's a terror all of his own right, now."

Remus frowned, unable to believe his ears. The story just seemed so – _wrong_. He couldn't have heard it right. Dozens of questions flooded his mind. "But – _purple_?" he questioned dumbly, frowning slightly. He took a biscuit out of the tin that sat between the two of them, chewing it slowly.

"I know," Lily agreed happily, her smile widening into a grin. "Severus could barely believe it himself, and he was there." Her head cocked to the side. "He said he was the only sixth year who wasn't mummified by the things."

Remus blinked. This was just too much – too preposterous. "How did he manage to do such a thing?"

"He's some prodigy or something," Lily shrugged, clearly wondering the same herself. "Surely you've noticed?"

"It'd be hard not to," Remus agreed, dusting crumbs off of his trousers.

Lily smiled, grabbing a biscuit for herself.

"I mean, he's been here for a week, but already he's a favourite of the teachers."

"He certainly seems capable of teaching the classes himself," Lily acceded. She curled her legs up, resting her chin on her knees. Her eyes fluttered closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the fire that radiated on her skin.

Remus leaned back against the couch they were sitting in front of. He wasn't really sure how the two of them had ended up sitting on the floor instead of the furniture, but he wasn't complaining. The fire was warmer up close, and helped soothe his aching muscles.

"But I can't believe he was still wearing that crown," the werewolf confessed.

Lily hummed in agreement, remembering the looks the green-eyed Slytherin had received when he had sat down to dinner, a glittering purple crown sitting crookedly on top of his head. He hadn't been seen without it since, and a whole day had passed. She wondered if he was going to take it off in public at all. She found that she'd prefer he didn't, if only because his audacity had confused the Marauders. They didn't like the idea that someone was able to out-prank them, least of all a _Slytherin_.

It helped that Harry Slythe was so stunningly _gorgeous_. Lily found herself blushing as she recalled his milky skin, straight nose and full lips. His hair seemed to have a mind of its own, much like Potter's, but it also had an order to it that gave it a sort of _just shagged_ look, which Potter had never been able to master. And his _eyes_. They were a stunning green, like her own were, but they had a quality to them that was simply indescribable. They told of a hidden secret, a mystery that was just within the depths of his emerald pools, and they were never without that playful gleam.

"I think it suits him," Lily whispered distractedly, hoping to pretend that the fire was making her face warm and that she wasn't, in fact, blushing.

"The colour does contrast nicely with his eyes," Remus noted quietly.

Lily blinked at him, her eyes widening slightly when she noticed that he, too, had a rosy tint to his skin that hadn't been there previously. He seemed to be glancing around the Common Room; to be sure that no one else had been there to overhear his confession, especially the Marauders. What would they say if they knew that Remus was capable of saying something like that? If they knew that he would say it about a Slytherin?

"True," Lily conceded, leaning back on the couch as well. She stretched her legs out, flexing her toes at the warmth of the fire before them.

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, each enjoying the fire as they mulled over their thoughts, until the Marauders entered the Common Room, returning from their late dinner in the kitchens. Remus wondered how they had missed dinner with the rest of the school, when even he had made it down in time.

Then he remembered seeing Harry there, and what Lily had said about the Marauders being jealous of him.

"Oi, Moony, are you coming?" Sirius called loudly when he spotted him, waving the werewolf over.

"You'd better go," Lily said quietly, running a hand over the plush carpet. "If only so that they don't wake up the rest of the House."

Remus stood, smiling sadly at his friend before following the Marauders up to their dorm room. Lily stood as well, brushing invisible dirt off of her clothes before making her way to her own dorm.

The tin of biscuits lay by the fire, completely forgotten.

-~-

Sunday morning found Severus sitting in the library, scowling at an advanced Charms book. He had already searched through his entire collection of textbooks, but had found nothing that could possibly explain how Harry had managed his – he scowled further at the thought – _prank_. But the spells cast had been so elaborate, so _skilled_, that Severus found it hard to believe that even Professor Flitwick could have been able to cast such a thing.

Especially since the streamers had completely covered anyone who had attempted to remove them or attack their creator.

And that was another thing, the near-sentience of the little paper banners. They had reacted differently depending on the situation and the _year _of the student. Severus was sure he was the only one who had noticed, but the first years had all been stuck together, second and third years stuck to walls, fourth years had had their faces covered – with the exception of airways – and anyone fifth year and up had been completely covered in the things until they had all appeared to be out of a poorly budgeted horror movie. How exactly had Harry managed to perform such a complicated spell? Prodigy or not, such an enchantment was possible only for the most skilled wizards, and certainly not for magic school prodigies.

And then Severus remembered the wandless magic that Harry had performed, and mentally shut up.

The soft tread of feet alerted Severus to the presence of another being, and he turned his head in time to see Harry Slythe – speak of the devil, and all that rot – seat himself in the chair beside him.

"Studying already, Severus?" Harry asked, a smile dancing across his face.

Severus shrugged, looking a lot calmer than he felt, before replying, "Not really. Just trying to figure out what spell you cast on Friday." His eyes wandered up Harry's face, looking pointedly at the purple crown which still sat crookedly on his head

Harry's smile widened, and he sat back, his eyes – the same as Lily's, Severus noted distantly – laughing as his gaze swept over Severus. Severus scowled again, trying to ignore the blush that had crept up to his cheeks. If Harry noticed, he didn't show it.

"It's a simple mix of Charms and Transfiguration," Harry said calmly, but he betrayed no more of his secrets.

Severus glowered at him, his dark eyes burning holes into the smaller teen's forehead. He wanted to scream at the Slytherin, to berate him for looking at him with eyes so like Lily's, to punch him in the face for the amusement that shone in the depths.

Instead, he asked, "What do you want, Slythe?"

A look of mock hurt crossed Harry's features. "Why, Severus, I didn't know you cared so little for me." He pressed a pale hand over his heart, a pout forming on his lips.

The amusement never left his eyes.

Severus clapped his book shut, an impatient sigh escaping his lips. "Someday you will learn that life does not revolve around pompous gits such as yourself," he snapped, but his heart wasn't really in it.

In fact, if he wasn't lying to himself – which he would never admit he was – even he could see the good that Harry's presence had done for the students of Slytherin House, himself included. One week in, and Slytherin was already three hundred points ahead of any other House thanks to him, and such knowledge lifted the spirits of his housemates. The many – _many_ – jokes that Harry had already pulled within the school (particularly the Slytherin common room) had kept tension down, especially when it was so clear that each of his elaborate schemes had been designed to target the Marauders in some way, despite the fact that not one prank had actually been directed at the Gryffindors. It was so _Slytherin_ an attack that the only ones in their House who had been able to retain their hate for the teen had been those who already promised themselves to the Dark Lord. Harry Slythe had quickly become well known, and Severus wouldn't be surprised if the teen somehow became Head Boy next year – in fact, he was sure he'd be more surprised if such an event _didn't_ take place. Harry was practically guaranteed the position – he was charismatic, brilliant, stunningly handsome (which Severus was willing to admit to himself) and had already shown that he _cared_ about what happened in the school.

"Earth to Severus."

With a start, Severus realized he had been staring – actually _staring_ – at Harry, and he looked guiltily away. It was his eyes, he told himself, as he started picking imaginary lint off of his sleeve. He glanced back at Harry, who was lounging in his armchair, one leg crossed regally over the other. His head rested on one hand, and he gazed at Severus with one eyebrow cocked, his damned green eyes dancing.

"If you are not going to leave," Severus snapped, covering his slip. He stood abruptly, spitting "then I shall."

He stormed out, not missing the amused smile that Harry had donned.

* * *

**Vicki's note:**** This chapter was meant to be angsty. Oops. Anyways, Dray agrees that my writing style doesn't completely suck anymore (Not that she'd be so rude as to actually _say_ such a thing), and I'm quite a bit happier with this chapter than I am with the others - even though it's a bit of a filler.**

**Author's Note: It was angsty at the start, but hilarious tends to be a better ending unless you're aiming to make your readers cry (which we probably will later on, but for now we're still carrying it fairly light). And yes, her writing is fabulous - I should just call you the author and be the beta, 'cause that's really all I'm doing ;P**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed it - and please leave us a review on what you think ;3**

**Review!**


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